Love lost

A poem of love lost

Hothouse Flower


Through the eyes of your soul
I see myself whole
Why did it take that to make me see?
Is my beauty so cloaked by my own prejudice—?
That I am blind.
Why does appearing and arriving act so much the same?
Slumped over in a mass
I cry—
For the realization took so long
I lost you…
Pity, shame this soul is shattered
For in this hothouse room
You tended to me—your precious bud
When I happened to finally open up and bloom
You walked away
Said goodbye my dear
Taking with you—
My color bright
Now I sit alone
Your hothouse flower
Pale—
Wilted
For my tears are not enough
To nourish my soil you planted me in
Rooted deeply—yes
Withering little vine
Alone
Under this glass ceiling
Stifled
Needing your tender touch
To stroke my petals
To speak to me
Simply—
To breathe life back into my world
So I once again—
Can thrive

Dawn M. Lawson 2007