Dying Roses

18 December 2025

https://poems.culturing.net/2025/12/dying-roses/

I think things must end. We live
under the sky again, a new sky,
one can hope, but a sky nonetheless,
and although we got partly undressed,
we shall not love forever, not like this.

--

I remember when we met, the fire
that burned behind your eyes, in need
of structure and direction. Have I given some?
A bit of cultivation, just a taste...the answer
lives in you, and always did. You have
the things you need, and I do not.

--

Of course a call from you might change my mind,
but not an indirect one, not one wrapped
in deniability. Of course there is a risk,
I might say no, but then, I might say no
either way. But I would say no gently
and praise you for the attempt.

--

If this is out of reach, then so is love,
and both our hearts must travel on
and not get stuck in wistful hoping,
dreaming dreams that cannot be. You will get free,
I have no doubt, but when? It's too late now
to pretend that I don't care, but I just cannot keep on
standing there, with a bouquet of dying roses.

--

But I think you'll be okay, and so will I,
because despite the changing sky,
I'm just another guy, a ghost who calls
to summon a better you. It's true.
But there are many truths, and this
is not one we would choose for more than a moment.

--

But even dying flowers
carry seeds.