By Elizabeth
Date: 23 May 1999

The Day The Flower Died

Our love was like a dying flower;
Tattered and torn,
Neglected and forlorn.
Trampled once more by love's power.
So hard it tried to stay alive;
Twisting and strainig,
Writhing and struggling.
So much did it wnat to thrive.
I knew it could not hold on much longer.
But somehow it hoped that it would become stronger.
Then one day it gave up
Without a word of goodbye,
Just a pathetic sigh,
It slowly breathed its last breath
And I just stood there and watched it died.