ruined

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  • Deep

    ruined

    a small fragile flower sits high up on a hill
    soon to be picked and placed on a sunny window seal
    watered as needed and kept where its bright
    dewe drops from the morning still in plain sight
    the flower remains pretty only for a short while
    until it sits neglected on the forgotten window tile
    as the water diminishes the flower hangs its head
    becoming too brittle to live, soon its almost dead
    noticed soon after an attempt is made to revive
    the color and strength it had while it was alive
    its not coming back all the life is now gone
    never again to see another dusk turn to dawn
    removed to the trash from that hot window seal
    you should have just left the little flower on the hill 

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    WordSlinger commented on ruined

    06-25-2009

    Wisdom, and this is a waring to all living things. Like Planet Earth, I really admire this, it has essence, and most of all it Kicks Ass, A big Green 10 plus

    Lucho commented on ruined

    06-25-2009

    Wow! You have great talent. I really like the progression of this poem. The transitions are well done. My favorite part is the ending. You finished perfectly. Keep it up. check mine out

    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    tiffleiffle’s Poems (4)

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