Voices.sg

Planting a smile,

so you will.

But within, the heart withers,

dying a little each time.

Looking back at the past,

in the garden,

as the pair streaked

with wild abandon.

Looking now,

as it threatens

to blossom again.

Looking on,

what becomes of these flowers,

and those?

Love takes root,

and I stay rooted,

even as the grey

screams for flight.

But the seeds of doubt lie

scattered,

sprawling

like weed,

choking back the roses.