Withered

A bouquet of flowers,
on that antique table,
which I like so much,
its beautiful - thank you.

That bouquet of flowers,
had been there for two days,
but where are you?
You said you would come over,
Its alright,
you might be busy.

The bouquet of flowers,
had been there for five days,
and its pungent smell stared to reek,
the room began to be filled with its poisonous cologne,
but still you didn't come and fill the room with yours.

The bouquet of flowers,
had been there for eight days,
its crimson glory began to fade,
its colour began to bleed out,
and its ugly greyness started to take over.

Our crimson passion had began to wither,
where is the high that we used to experience?
our love that was filled with laughter and euphoria,
so much so that I couldn't breathe,
'cause I was lost in you scent,
those were the days that filled me with happiness.

The bouquet of flowers,
had been there for ten days,
it had lost its youthfulness,
withered and shrunken,
an eye sore among all these beauties.

There were no longer sweet words -
from your sweet and tempting mouth,
there were no showing of affection,
no more holding hands in the cold nights,
not even a glance to see whether that spark was still there.

We both lost what was magical
and felt sad - or was is just me?
we're like those bouquet,
beautiful at one point
but because of neglect,
it died and turned to dust,
I did not cry but this feeling is heavy,
are feeling the same way as I?
Where should I go now? - disappear I suppose.

The bouquet of flowers,
is no longer there,
on that antique table,
I threw them away,
'cause I could not bear with the smell and sight.

Like the way I could not handle your stench,
I didn't say goodbye,
neither did you,
I let out a cool breath,
a breath of relief,
and looked at the empty room,
everything is gone,
and its time for me to go,
Goodbye my once sweet flower.