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Picking Petals
June 13, 2014
He loves me, he loves me not.
Picking petals to determine my fate.
The feeling of desperate love is beaming.
My heart is like a machine gun, it going a million miles an hour.
One petal gone, another gone, another.
I see him walking down the sidewalk.
He stops and smiles.
His smile is the gateway to heaven.
I stand up and make my way to his presence.
A door closes as another girl walks up to him.
She kisses him on the cheek, while he blushes.
He looks at me as he walks away.
I make my way back to the porch again.
Picking petals to determine my fate.
He loves me, he loves me not.
© Cerys W., Marblehead, MA
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