Curtain Call
by Franz
When the final curtain falls
I will throw three roses
at your feet
One of pink and two of
White
I am still trying to figure out
How to accept defeat
And surrender gracefully
To the ebb and flow of life
….
My mother was a collector of flowers
And pretty leaves
And I was her apprentice.
Should I ever be drawn to a flower,
I should hold its roots between my thumb and index finger
Hold the pressure, steady now, and
Yank, yank, yank!
Put it in a vase filled with tap water
And leave it by the window
So that it can still feel the warmth of the sun
I started to realize
The vanity of my admiration
When your eyes lost their glow
To these god-awful stage lights.
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