Dusty old book of life.
Nothing, but a mystery
Wrinkled pages, torn jacket
Full pages of history
Fell a beautiful flower,
Hidden among these sheets of time
Life scented rosy, time sublime.
Flawed was she,
the flower I loved.
Thoughts hovered above her,
like a bee they buzzed.
Once oblivious of her presence,
now I exist.
Not for the sake of life
but for her flaws that I love...
