on the last day of love

i planted flowers the day you confessed your love for me

as i showered them with water, i would sing for them

a different love song for every day of the week

when my hydrangeas stood strong and vibrant

they promised to live until the last day of love

that not a single petal would wither before then

my heart tugged at the thought

then not a single petal should wither, ever, i pleaded

but they knew better than i did

on the three hundredth day of love

they refused to drink any water

they lost the strength to stand tall

petal after petal began to fall

i sat on my porch in defeat

only one petal remained

only after you walked out of the door

did it fall into my hand and turn gray