Thursday, May 26, 2011

Old Poem

Our Love

Through the endless lies,
my spirit is lost.

With every heart gained,
another is tossed.

My path, is vague.
The road, is steep.

With my soul-destroying words,
I hesitate to speak.

My love for you,
it's deep and true,
but planting this flower,
kills a tree.

The flower will bloom,
with color and scent.
Yet the petals will whilt,
and it's life, will end.

The tree was planted,
many years ago.
Yet only this year,
it started to grow.

In winter, it's strong enough,
to hold up the snow.
In summer, it blossoms,
with wonder and glow.

The tree will last long,
after the flower is gone.

And a flower,
is not worth a tree.


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