sadness

three month old roses

still lingering in their vase

brown withered petals

their remnants on the table

illusions that we exist

15 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. billgncs
    Nov 01, 2012 @ 03:16:36

    hope you are not sad.

    Reply

  2. Steven S. Walsky
    Nov 01, 2012 @ 12:58:29

    Very nice. Another verse of a few words that speak a thousand more. Steve

    Reply

  3. kshawnedgar
    Nov 01, 2012 @ 21:40:57

    I’ve seen those roses. After long enough, their withered death becomes a thing of beauty that leads to mythical tales of adventure and love.

    Reply

  4. J Matthew Waters
    Nov 02, 2012 @ 01:18:10

    hard to let them go…a lovely poem

    Reply

  5. warmginger
    Nov 02, 2012 @ 09:12:58

    Perfect.

    Reply

  6. Miss Kitten
    Nov 02, 2012 @ 12:06:18

    And yet we still insist on leaving those long dead roses in their long dried up vase until they crumble into dust. Pitifully.

    Reply

  7. Steven S. Walsky
    Nov 02, 2012 @ 15:11:32

    Reblogged this on Simplicity Lane and commented:
    A verse of a few words that speak of a thousand more.

    Reply

  8. e1aine
    Nov 02, 2012 @ 20:21:20

    Beautiful

    Reply

  9. Trackback: Saturday Poetry Sampler #4 – Make It Real « Lyrical Anarchy
  10. agjorgenson
    Nov 13, 2012 @ 02:36:51

    Lovely, thanks for stopping by stillvoicing!

    Reply

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