Languished

The flowers you chose
Have long wilted in the sun;
Not the tender roses
They were thought to become.

What will you do now
That the daisies shrink at your touch?
Will you wander to me
When the news makes you think too much?

So many things you never knew
Because you couldn't see through
My semblant formality.

Will I grow bitter before you find
The myrtle I cultivated around
Your visceral frailty?

Despite my sensibility,
My petals wither in absense of your light.
How long can my hollowed roots
Sustain me without rain or respite?

© 2006, Jennifer D. Lac Kamp