Dead flowers, <br />that once floursished, <br />Sacrificed. <br />Severed from there source, <br />left to scorch, <br />under foriegn burning lights. <br />Placed in a vase, <br />half filled with purified water. <br /> <br />Admired for your perfurumed petals, <br />and striking red fingers. <br />Then discarded, <br />Once you withered. <br />All things must fade, <br />those that admire <br /> just hurry the proccess along.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dead-flowers-2/
