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Don't Bring Me Flowers
A fragile heart laments these lifeless limbs
a price paid for lifes unwanted torments.
As I drift, the fugacious sun begins to dim,
to conscious dreams, of youths sweet innocence.
Your makeup still sleeps on sheets of silk
while I languish in the beauty of your scent,
Love slipping through my fingertips like soap,
I closed my eyes too long, now I am spent.
A withered moon and God's sky filled eyes eloped.
To die unshackled from loves pain as it was meant.
For what a living heart does not deserve,
A dying heart should not receive.
Don't bring me flowers.
Copyright ©
Daniel Caplin
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