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Alvira Perdita Nov 2017
the flower is wilting, bending
falling under the weight of the world
it's breaking, crumbling,
but it's forgotten as its tread on

perhaps they didn't see it,
perhaps they didn't care,
but the flower is dying,
slowly, slowly,
waiting for the final petal
to fall and claim its life
recently started studying poetry in college, this is just a test.

— The End —