A new day,
Yet I have repeated.
I break,
And I cry.
I am fascinated,
With the stars.
They are so free.
I wish,
That I could be just like one.
I wish,
With everything in me,
That I could become the dead flower,
Out in the backyard.
I wish,
With all my being,
That I could be his,
And he could be mine.
Even I know,
Wishes like mine,
Don't come true.
YOU ARE READING
Wilted
PoetryShe couldn't see him, But she was all he could see. Raw Poetry, by: Mae Ethlyn
