A Romantic Poem of Blooming Love
Without You They Wither 💐
I buy the flowers for you,
for your wonderful smile,
the magic of being bound to you.
What could be lovelier than a heart
that leaps with joy?
Then you left,
on the last bus.
Your roses still stand
upon the round wooden table—
a small remembrance of you.
A touch of pink and red,
the white ones bow their heads
to the inevitable, too-swift death.
I must trim them once more,
to linger with you a little longer.
Without you they wither,
as does my little heart.
Yet when you appear—they bloom anew.
My heart knows this too:
plucked happiness.
Alexander
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Write me a comment if you like these kind of words.
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