Dried and shrunken petals, glued to a thorn laden stalk,
Colors faded with dull effect, line a seldom traveled walk.
Is this all there is, when the excitement is gone, flowers hung to dry?
Still hand in hand our life lines crossed as we quietly wait to die.
But our path was cluttered with life's remains, dead or so it seemed.
Cross roads littered with cast off hopes, lingering like a dream.
Was it the way of reckless youth that made our choices easy,
Or was it a lack of maturity that made our stomach queasy?
Is life a question we must ponder, worried about its end?
All I know is we shared our love, and we will be forever friends.