Left Behind

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Out there, somewhere in the woods

There is a flower that speaks of you

Born the moment you first smiled at me

And still blooming while you bade adieu.

There is a spring that speaks of your tears

Of painful departure and hours of pleasure

And you know the butterflies you once chased

Now look for their colors in some hidden treasure

The moments of ecstasy might have passed

And the flames surely have been doused

But every time the sun pierces through the gloom

The old fragrances reunite, alive and aroused.

Come home my dear, come back and behold

The brook has lost its flow and the song knows no tune

And they who pass by those woods now feel ditched and broken,

Being once promised fluid for life and a melody to croon.

Out there, somewhere in the woods

There is a flower that you had left behind

Though weathered and bereft of freshness,

Bears traces of the past, preserved for you to find.