The fractured vase now stands alone
Once held the roses of this home
Withered bouquet pastel and dry
Painful memories that never die
For beauty sweet is but a day
To gaze upon then look away
Ashamed to age then bend and fall
Be less considered if seen at all
Useless wisdom this lore of Fate
Befalls each person poor or great
Counted out while counting down
Trapped within an aging frown
Old Man Winter has no heart
He lives to tear dim hopes apart
Broken pieces upon the floor
Please don’t glue me anymore
I shan’t hold water anyway
Please this time sweep me away.
Ciera S. Louise c. Feb. 25, 2005