Flower petals drift down the creek.
Tattered and torn, nothing left
but fading memories
of what once was beautiful.
Perhaps that is just how it must be.
Change is the way of all life.

Upstream, young children gather fallen petals,
throw them into the rippling water.
Look into their eyes.
Do you see the little old men
and women peering out?
Endurance is the way of the living.

Not so innocent, they hide
the pain and uncertainty.
Focus on now, live for the moment.
Payment will be made at home.
Angry voices raised, they can do nothing right.
Criticism is the way of their life.

Lock up what might be said.
Stupidity is never suffered gladly.
Trust no one to see what hurts,
it will be used against you.
Test each word lest it betray your feelings.
Grin and bear it.
Hiding emotions is the only way to survive.

Once grown, return to the woods.
Gather a handful of petals along the creek.
Let them drift into the water and float away,
a memory of what should have been.
Regret always haunts the survivors.

03/11/2003

Author's Note: revised 12/14/03

Posted on 03/11/2003
Copyright © 2024 Rhyana Fisher