Tears On A Withered Flower
Fleeting youth, like petals bright,
Unfurls with promise, a wondrous sight.
Soft as a whisper, delicate as a sigh,
Dancing on breezes, with life's twinkling eye.
But soon, like autumn's chill, it fades,
Withers, and wrinkles, in life's swift shades.
Petals drop, like tears, like memories past,
Leaving the stem, bare, and forever aghast.
The flower's beauty, lost to the wind,
Echoes of laughter, silenced, and left behind.
The vibrancy, the glow, the radiant hue,
Fades to a whisper, of what once shone true.
Yet, even in withering, the flower's tale,
Reminds us to cherish, life's fleeting gale.
To hold dear, each moment, each kiss, each sigh,
For in the withering, we find, the beauty that's been, and why.
So let us bask, in youth's radiant glow,
And cherish each moment, as the flower's petals grow.
For though it withers, its beauty remains,
A memory, a whisper, of life's fleeting, sweet refrains.
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