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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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