**I posted this in another poetry group on here. It's actually a poem I wrote for a contest, but I thought I'd share it.**

I'm a flower
with all my petals
plucked off,
one by one,
while you sat there
smiling
in pure ecstasy,
unaware of me.

I have my thorns.
You have your honesty.

I'm a flower
whose posture,
once confident,
has wilted
slowly
while you turned
your head
away from me.

I have my thorns.
You have your honesty.

I'm a flower
with a softly fading
colour,
from bright green
to black,
while you allowed yourself
to forget -
a simple luxury.

I have my thorns.
You have your honesty.