Flower (poem)

Intoxicated by the sweet smelling perfume,
I follow the scent to the source of the bloom.
Beauty there... so I let my eyes linger for a bit,
So simple it was, yet complex and intricate.

And I wanted it, to have it all for myself,
Not wanting to share it with anyone else.
I wanted to pluck it from its place of rest,
To own such a thing would be heavenly bliss.

So I pull it gently from where it had grown,
Smile happily, as I take it into my home.
Place it on display, where I can always see,
The beauty that this flower has given to me.

It is the center of my attention for many days.
But after awhile, my interest gradually fades.
I no longer care, as life for me moves on,
The joy it brought me, has long since gone.

When I wish to gaze on its beauty once more,
I find it has changed from what it was before.
The sweet smell and soft petals are all gone,
I have ignored this flower for far too long.

And when I see that its beauty has been spent,
And it no longer brings me any happiness,
I throw it away, so I don't have to admit,
That I am the one who caused the death of it.....

............A few days later............

Intoxicated by the sweet smelling perfume,
I follow the scent to the source of the bloom.
Beauty there... so I let my eyes linger for a bit,
So simple it was, yet complex and intricate.

And I wanted it, to have it all for myself,
Not wanting to share it with anyone else.
I wanted to pluck it from its place of rest,
To own such a thing would be heavenly bliss......


Thanks,
blend57