Young Love (High School relationships be like...)
Flowers in the fall
Is like young love, at first they are crisp and luminous
Then slowly the flowers become brittle insecure of itself
Afraid the wind will blow away the beautiful petals they made together
They soon brown and droop
And one day
It just
Disappears
No hello and certainly no goodbye
Just the blinding colors of love
Then the absolute absence of light
This poem is about:
Me