365 Days of Poetry — Day 87

Our petals fall or fade, and here we stand or lay.
Our ground is damp with stale tears, and the wind is ravenous with our fears.
We are lost among the minerals of the earth: decayed, reused, and sucked of all we’re worth.
We are no longer who we were; no where you will find us, and nowhere we’ll appear.

– Brittany Rose

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