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Watering Dead Flowers
You've spent your whole life
wishing for rain
While you hold onto
your withering petals,
wishing to be taken care of.
As you sit there,
patiently waiting to be watered,
as your roots slowly break
the petal seems to be keening for
a sight of sunlight.
Grieving after being thrown away
on the sidewalk, as people pass by
watching you rot slowly.
Mourning petals fall slowly, as your
pot slowly cracks, seemingly to be
seen as a flower that was used for
her beauty.
Being tattered by those who used
your beauty for views,
knowing it aching your roots,
having to be torn.
Petals by petals each day.
As you yearn for such love
knowing you've never experienced it,
you're willing to keep trying
as your petals rot on the floor.
As I pass by,
picking your flower pot up
sulking, as you grieve in silence,
waiting for me to throw you away.
As I water you and your dying roots.
Knowing that your beauty is
worth so much more.
Mending your stem and tending your roots,
knowing the rain cannot feel and change how
you've been feeling, experiencing grieving
in silence.
As rain poisons those roots and petals,
as so much let you rot,
you've still accepted it no
matter how much it aches,
yearning...
but seemingly to feel different
as I see your flower bloom beautifully.
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