demise of the flowers 
i am a rain drop
burning in the gaze of the sun
once your petals
saved me from destruction
now they scorch me every time
i tried so hard to save us,
but we were the moment falling through
the cracks of the sun’s memory;
only winter remembers us
wretched and broken —
frozen and hollow i once remember
that summer reached me with
warmth and recalled me minutes with you
spent in joy and happiness;
but that all seems so far away now
i’ve been walking in a fog that
doesn’t end, it only spreads its fingers
like the arms of weeds flowing
effortlessly into my
flower garden, choking the flowers
of their nutrients causing tubers to
faint with entropy, the same
demise you subjected me to here.
– linda m. crate
dead roses 
a bird sits
head bent
over the sidewalk
devouring morsels
found in
threadbare pieces
of grass
littering the cement;
without wanting to do
the work of digging up it’s
food much like you
dreaming up a
romance thinking the
flower garden would bloom and bloom
without the aid of your hands
finding the weeds
that needed pulled or
during the dry spells —
you sat idly by
let our romance die as i fought
as hard as i could to water
both our gardens,
yours grew out of my control
left me barren and alone
my roses could
not kiss yours the way they once did
so i remain here broken and
limping through life,
you oblivious to my pain as you
look through the thorns
only seeing rose petals
without realizing
they’re dead.
– linda m. crate

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