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The Day The Flowers Died
June 17, 2016
Let us not speak of the day
The flowers did die,
Never once mention the way,
It killed us inside,
Having seen the rose blooms,
Wither slowly away,
Or have smelt the perfume,
Fade through the day,
And it’s indescribable the pain,
That seeks out our souls,
As those flowers lay slain,
Under the weight of the world,
For a moment I wish,
I could press them to my lips,
I could briefly relish,
Their sweetened dew drop, drips,
But even as I reach now,
For their petals so dark,
I watch them crumble,
Into pieces apart.
© Louise T., Marblehead, MA
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This is a poem about loss of innocence. It's the sharp pain one feels when dreams are stripped from reality and the world is suddenly thrust into darkness and more importantly, it's the sharp pain that those related to or acquainted with the person, who has lost their innocence, have to deal with.