This is where I start and where I end,
A cold hand in a box.
Is it hers or is it mine?
Flowers, strong perfume,
cannot erase that smell of death.
It wraps itself inside my heart and binds it tight.
Beauty wasted.
Petals drop like tears.
Lilies
Lilies
Lilies
Petals
Fall
So sorrowful a thing.
Reminding
us
happier
times
have
gone
away.
.Nothing
lasts forever but the cold.
