Kitchen Flowers:
I bought you flowers, before I died, and now they wilt with the decisions of my life. You left them in the kitchen, you gave them water, to give them life, but they rejected it, just like mine.
Every flower of choice I planted, I hope they’re thriving, even if the flowers of my life are wilting.
I bought you flowers, before I died, now they remain kitchen flowers that you can’t throw away because they remind you of what was, what is, what could’ve been.
I don’t know if this message will reach you now I’m dead.
But I hope my love will always reach you,
Through my kitchen flowers.
-
Author:
Georgia Watson (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2025 21:21
- Comment from author about the poem: I was always afraid of death. But I think now that more people are afraid of other people dying, Than them dying themselves.
- Category: Letter
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
This poem seems to have more than one meaning even as a metaphor. Death is implied and spoken of in this poem as are the gift of flowers symbols of beauty and happiness. Often people reject the very things that would give life to a relationship and now all that remain are memories. A deep poem nicely done
Thank you x
You are most welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.