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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?
Background: This is how MS makes me feel. My daughter gave my the idea for the poem, as she loves to pick flowers from our garden and give them to me, her teacher, everyone really! Fortunately we still have some left!
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