Wilted Flower

If I may be honest,

I don't feel much 

anymore.

There are things,

far and few

between

that cause a twinge in my

heart.

A wilted flower,

a father's embrace,

a lover's prayer,

the moon

when she peaks her

head behind clouds

and crowned

in starlight.

But long ago, these things

escaped me.

Or maybe I just

imagined 

them up.

I see the world,

and I am amazed at the

numbness of it all.

I pray one day I may feel

the rain on my lashes

and the wind

through my soul.

This poem is about: 
Me

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