"He loves me, he loves me not"
I say quietly as the petals fall
Worried that the last petal will cascade slowly down onto the cold, stone pavement,
That that last petal will rip my heart to shreds
That the last petal will reflect, as it falls, your true intended affections for me
"He loves me not." I state finally, as I realize that that was the last petal...
It slowly, and dutifully floats down toward the pavement
I look at it, wondering if it truly does reflect how you really feel about me
But I only see the crimson red color that flashes rapidly as the petal flips over and over, slipping lower in the air, towards the ground.
Perhaps it doesn't matter
Perhaps plucking rose petals is merely a childish game to pass the time, and truly the flowers petals hold no truth or opinion at all
I keep this in mind, as I watch that last petal make contact with the pavement below me
He loves me not. . .
YOU ARE READING
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
PoetryJust a few poems to get out all of my loving, yet frustrated emotions to my special someone. :) <3 Note: Some of these are free verse, some are not, it just depends on what comes into my heart. © Moraceae
