The Flower

The image of a once-bright flower with crusted leaves
Wilting petals, submissive to the winter snow
And less sun has she felt, a long-forgotten memory
Gradually losing strength and love
For who that wanders amidst the fresh green scenery
would offer more than a glance to this sight
A faded loveliness, doomed to forever be outshone
by the constant appearance of new flowers, greedy for light
With the knowledge that new life shall always emerge
who would sacrifice their time, to try in vain to save that useless flower?
Its time to live has passed, once complimented generously
behold the beauty now

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