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Beyond
I took my hands off my pockets slowly and rubbed the flower you gave me. To pieces. Then I smelled my palms and saw the crumbs, all so impermanent, scattered on the ground in front of me.
No tears, not a smile, but the facts.
Sometimes the truth hurts.
Sometimes the truth hurts.
The only real failure in life is not to be true to the best one knows.--Buddha
I agree that you captured the
I agree that you captured the moment in this poem.
I'm sure there is some pain generated behind these words, but your stance is so admirable despite it. The language is perfect.
and the only thing left, (being the facts), puts it all in to perspective for me.
Great job.
Moncies A. Franco
great
that you liked it.
thank you for your encouraging observation Twincities