poem #19

valentine


i found a vase
with a flower
i could not 
keep alive.
i watered it
with falling tears,
it still wilted
and cried.
i sunned it 
with fake smiles,
the petals continued
to fall.
i placed it on
the windowsill
so it might
see outside.
but still the
colour faded,
my flower did
slowly die.

poem #16

the roses we find

such a delicate flower
he held in his hand,
the petals he crushed
as if to take stand.
their fragrance was sweet
and felt like a cry;
so gentle and vulnerable,
the roses we find.

do flowers have spirits,
perhaps even a soul?
nobody has asked this
when cutting them all.
who are we to assume,
as arrogant as we are,
that we alone have feelings
when we destroy and command.