life lost

the dead leaves know so little

the swine and their eager snouts

scour the pile, although too brittle

swarming minds with no doubts


seeks for hints of undeniable light

but only reveals a broken flower

foreign realization begins to bite

and sets in a fatal loss of power


that tattered rosebud,

without compassion

a life is lost

This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741