"Petals of questions"

i saw it fall

dripping down

off a petal of a rose

to the ground

with it arose

a beautiful sensation

of glories questions

for which to pose



"hows the life of the love

when the loving aren't worth living?"



"whens nothing said, enough when words

of something said can't be forgiving?"



"can a soul be reached by touching

the blinding spirt for in which it lyes?"



"should we care when the caring

stop believing and forever dies?"



floating like broken feathers

withered and weathered

the petals of the questioned rose

begin to drift

lost to dirt of the earth forever

but a new birth

will bring more questions to view

for life is a circle we trust

more so than never

life will remember us


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