Fallen Petals

The heart,
is like a flower,
that blooms enchantingly,
Wholly.

I believe that everyone,
has a pure and beautiful heart,
since they were born,
Untainted.

But as we grow older,
the more people we meet,
the harder it is to remain one's originality.
the heart, that is.

Some,
tainted,
pitch dark,
filled with hate.

Some,
dyed,
laced,
with disappointment.

The petals begin to fall.
Piece by piece.
As if one's humanity,
is traded on negative experiences.

How many petals,
does one have?
How many,
till they have all fallen?

I am afraid,
the more people I meet,
the deeper the connection,
the greater the disappointment.

The words,
a speech,
simplicity.
Sufficient.

Perhaps,
I am so full of myself.

But then again,
I learnt that,
blaming myself for the past experiences,
merely make up for the shit the other party creates...

So... Why bother?









And then....
I realised,













The petals have all fallen...