Authors Note: This poem was just about how sometimes we don't even give people a chance, and sometimes the things that seem so minor to us could really be hurting the other person.
The innocence within the flower hides
A frost bitten blossom caused by wind
The never forgiving wind that strides;
A fresh petal from its stem
A shivered, ruthless, hollow form.
It stands so high compare to thee;
And mocks the seed, which yet it’s torn
Its dry and lifeless guaranty.
its pain-- eased by its faith
It’s tears-- deluded at its best
It’s lost without a steady pace
Looking for silent rest.
The odor from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me;
The color from the flower is flown
Which glowed of thee and only thee!
A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast;
And mocks the heart, which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I weep–my tears revive it not;
I sigh–it breathes no more on me:
Its mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be
~Percy Bysshe Shelly
I thought you did a good job imitating Shelly's rhyming pattern, and did a goob job with using closed form. It was a nice emulation and I liked how your poem had a real meaning behind it which some of the emulations don't.
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