The sunflower dies.
Upon the lava and the flies.
It’s molten body,
With all the broken ties.
Could not be seen.
For this is an untimely dream.
For it has gone away.
All the love, and the roots.
And has been stomped on.
By shoes and by boots.
It was once so pretty and yellow...
Now it’s all lose and shakey.
Like lime green jello.
For this is what happens when.
Love turns blue.
And for saying this love..
Might have been true.

 
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