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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2161801
It's an addition to pour, but less of a storytelling vibe.
Watching him, staring
Looking at him.
Smiling and pining for that smile back.
Like the Earth pines for the heat of the sun,
I pine for his warmth.

And soon, summer comes.
His heat and his joy bring my flowers in to bloom!
How prosperous I am now,
Now that he is around.
How prosperous that I am!

But all does wilt.
I saw him,
Watched him,
Felt him staring.
Though, not at me.
My flowers fell out of bloom,
And my leaves dropped.

Will I love no more?
Winter, again.
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