Flowers on a Mantel

Barely breathing and not feeling alive like wilted flowers on a mantel The beauty lost on the outside falls apart with a touch so gentle The sun can’t revive a soul so old Only dry up what once was gold In a glass less than half full, bleeding a color not quite pink, not quite red The signs of life diminishing, still they decorate the mantel What once celebrated a stepping stone is now struggling to survive As soon as they wilted, nobody touched them We ignored them As throwing them out would be to forget about the accomplishment they represent When we finally decide to let the flowers go and let them decompose A new start will emerge and we will for the time being, forget Until another milestone brings new life to the mantel