Sunday, August 24, 2008

Dead Flowers

underfoot, wilted
on a grave unattended
a vase left water to moss
covered pockets of life
undoing us all

littering the paths
we chose not to avoid
looking over our shoulders
hunched from the heaviness
undoing us all

the thorns left behind
us reminders for our pain
sinking deep into the skin
ripped reaching towards the end
undoing us all

scattered in the aisles
leading calmly from our pyre
left not for the living, who
failed to grasp the beauty
undoing us all

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