Wilting Flower

 

She picks the flowers

as soon as they start to bloom.

I tell her they won’t last.

We put them in water,

they light up the room

for one day, maybe two.

The stems then droop,

the petals rain down

creating a windowsill flower bed,

soon a shrivelled mess.

I’m a wilting flower

losing petals every moment,

hurting as I watch them fall.

My stem is drooping,

searching for some hidden strength.

No water will steady me,

my tears nourish no part.

Will you pick me up too?