Brown sepaled, heads a droop, they gaze at me;
Petals faded. A loss of dignity
Pervades the vase. Mimosa turned to stone.
Lament more mournful than I could intone.
Once jaunty, brightest yellow, shining bright,
Young daffodils, spring fresh, uplifting sight.
Their swift loss of vigour a tragedy.
Just dying forlornly, for all to see.
Crystal clear water, like sweet summer rain,
Turned rancid and stagnant; cannot regain
Its purity lost. Too full of dross.
The whole an embodiment of life lost.
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