Wilted

Over the horizon,
I see the life I hope to come alive in,
if it truly gets darkest before dawn,
what transformation will I have undergone?
Plucking a flower to admire its beauty,
it stuns then dies as its destined duty,
leave it where it may and it’ll live until gray,
selfish to assume that with you it must stay.
The latter occurred that led you withered from view,
sobbing as you left my front door,
you said with tears – I thought you ignored,
I loved you, too

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