Site hosted by Build your free website today!

Wilted Flower
9 April, 1999

I am a wilted flower,
Who once was beautiful and fragrant.
Standing tall above my peers,
I watched over them,
I made sure they were all right.
But when a wind,
Strong and fierce,
Swept over us one night,
We all were worried,
Full of fear,
That we would not have the right
To see the morning,
Full of glory,
And the land about.
And when we woke upon the morn
To see that land so bright,
We took the task upon ourselves
To earn our every right
To live to tell the story
Of what happened on that night.
Each and all
Of my friends in that bed
Were severed from their friends and family,
Right below their head.
And so I am the only one
To have survived the blast.
I will be gone soon,
That is for sure,
And so I tell you this:
I am passing on the story
Of the night that took our past.

Wilted Flower is (C) 1999