January 13, 2011
One petal drops
A second, a third
The grass is slowly littered
As the petals keep falling
And the tears keep streaming

For every dropped petal
Is a decision
“I love her.”
“I love her not.”
He chooses with ease
While my tears are shed
Over the uncertainty
Of whether I will ever again call you mine

I wait,
I wonder,
I stay with him through every change of his mind
As much as it pains,
As much of my dignity is lost,
I stay with him

In fear
That the last petal will be plucked
And he will choose “I love her not.”

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