On why that a flower has to wither

Yesterday I had in mind about composing a poem that tells about preserving something (like a relationship for example) for good. I came up with a sonnet and with every metaphor I could possibly find to best portray of what I'm trying to implicate, poured out in the poem: Relationships are always worth restoring. I hope you will enjoy reading my poem and always keep that flower thing growing inside of you.

On why that a flower has to wither:
I take my stand--it withers not at all
But what's, in our hearts, felt with less of care
When the best of things remain in the soul;
In every knowing's find with its new eyes,
A flower keeps growing inside of us.
Despite what the picture tells otherwise
It always be the thing that it once was:
Pure and innocent like the sweet embrace
Of love's first kiss--what freely it can give
That blossoms everywhere upon the face
Of someone's life--with love it has to live.
So long as there is much to take away
Is why the needs to nurture it to stay.


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