Flowers to be Picked

The floral smell faded fast
I’ve had this flower forever
It brings a sense of comfort
Like a big hug,
Light as a feather.

I miss the days
Out in the sun.
Carefree and everything was fine.
I picked this gentle flower,
Such beauty I’ve never seen before.
It took took things off my mind.

There it sits on my shelf,
Brown and dishevelled.
Death takes over.
My pretty young flower.

It’s had its time,
For now it must go.
Flowers to be picked,
No flower will replace the beauty of the old.
But it’ll have to do,
It has to.