if you find my petals withered and crooked,
lying still upon the freshly sprouted grass,
then leave me there.
Do not try to give life to the dead,
for its time of beauty has passed so quickly within a temporary world.
if you find my heart in pieces,
then do not mend the broken,
for the broken has its way of saying that pain has been stronger than its capacity of being what it was.
Beating hearts, like flowers are the most majestic creations of God.
But remember, broken hearts may be beating,
but its glory has passed like withering flowers.
Jehona Thaqi© does this poem even matter