Withering

I planted a flower in your heart and each day I see it grow.

Every day I ask the flower, 'Does he love me more than the day before?'

Consequently the flower replies, 'I'm not sure.'

I'm afraid this flower will adorn me in it's petals no more.

And it will die.

But someone new will come and plant their own flower where I had planted mine.

And I will die as the flower had done before.

Author's Note

Positive/Negative feedback please??

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

I would add a bit more to this one...like for example as you are asking the question you are in fact plucking away one by one the dead petal on the flower you planted...but if you feel this is good go for it...as is...