This was a poem I wrote when I was 11 years old... when my grandma was dying from cancer...

The Dead Flower

One petal at a time
falls down and unwinds
just like the precious lives
that are lost each night.
The petal falls in water
and vanishes its color
just like a muddy pig
playing in clean water.
The petal ripper to pieces
falls to the ground
just like broken glass
shattered to pieces all around.
The petal fades away
and doesn't stay,
just like each day
that passes by without a trace.
So the flower's gone like that
and the lives are soon forgot!
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1 Response Aug 24, 2010

i am lost