Love Leftover
Over weathered walls white flowers grow,
Up from the reminants you left behind,
Creeping like clover like clover a clever cover,
Can't you see through, beneath the surface?
Where vermine slither endlessly eating,
Tiny micro-tastes of the love that lingers,
Consuming conscience with each greedy breath,
Destroying sweet fruit that keeps them alive,
From weathered walls flower petals fall,
Floating to earth and peaceful rest,
Smaller pieces of you contained within,
Each living cell of this flower dying,
Can't you see inside the love leftover?
Is it from struggle or resignation,
Waning movements pulsing without purpose,
Or is enough left over for one more spring?
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