Petals on the Ground

We plucked the petals
And put them down
The reds and yellows
Gently on the ground
As we intoned
An old count-down

The beauty of a flower is
The life it holds
While purpose lives
Not in its petals
On the ground
Arranged so pretty
An artful mound

Now while all petals
Someday wither on the stem
These already shrivel
With the violence
We have done to them

So when I tell you
Walk away
He does not love you
No matter what
These petals say

He’s plucked your flower
As if his own
Left you scattered
Upon the ground
Where I’ve picked you up

I have that knack

But some day sure
He’ll put you down
With force of will
Upon the ground
The petals plucked
Hard from the stem
No one could ever
Put them

Back

Again