petals of love

petals of love

no one can collect

before they fall to the ground

now spoiled, rotten, discolored

slippery hands, foul hands

the petals avoid

the only living in control

of gravity

sways to the right

swirls about your body

you try to catch, snatch

it slips just a second

and though its impact

should be strong and disastrous

it gently rests on the dusty ground

where love is no more

-random poetry

LCH

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