Wilting Flowers

Wilting Flowers What in life is commonly shared But to scream out in frustration together! From this chair I watch the flowers droop As useful purpose is cruelly removed, While my freshness disappears, Abhorrently, in sustained tears. I scarcely question depression’s invasion And try half-heartedly contemplating escapism. It’s the complexity of organismal cannibalism (Feeding on each other to thrive in this environment) That bends my conscience, revealing nature’s intent Of a point desperately sought, “called meaning.” And then to be disappointed when it is discovered That the answer lies in a vase of wilting flowers.