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Petals.

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Laying under a cherry tree on a windy afternoon
I feel your fingertips running around my hand
Touching softly my once lonely skin
The soft scratch of your nails
Is nothing other than lovely
But not as much as you.

In a matter of seconds,
A breeze threw a few petals on to your face.
You instantly shut your eyes.
Is that gesture.
Is your petrified face.
It is me wondering how something so soft could scare you.

Then I recall,
They are not just petals.
They are the flower bouquet your dad gave to your mom
With the note that said he was leaving.

They are the millions of times you craved from him to be there
Along with the tears of your 8 year old brother
Sliding all the way through his face wondering where his “Poppa” was
And you,
Closing your eyes to avoid seeing your mother cry.

And then I remember,
How something as sweet as the petals terrify you
And how I’d feel as if it burnt your face if they touch you
So I’d cut down the tree
If it meant for nothing to ever hurt you again.




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ephemeral said...
today at 3:41 am:
The last line is such a sweet gesture of your admiration, and the tentative attention to your object of affectiong. I love it, particularly the last two lines because of their quick shift in tone
 
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LexusMarieThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Mar. 29 at 11:36 pm:
This is beautiful..
 
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SilentNinjaThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Mar. 29 at 9:27 pm:
I love the soft feel of the petal you can feel in this poem
 
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