Suffer

 Its wilting leafs that are golden brown

Every day another petal falls

Another leaf falls to the harsh gravel

So delicate that if you would dare to touch it

It would fall apart like burnt paper

Then remain utterly lifeless as ash on ground

I feel guilty

Watching- watching its dry thin roots

Trying to gather precious water

That doesn't exist

Its stalk slowly drops as the days pass....

Is it my fault?
 I wonder, as it lies frail and dead…