Stupidity
20 lines✦
earest, forgive that with my clumsy touchI broke and bruised your rose.I hardly could supposeIt were a thing so fragile that my clutchCould kill it, thus. It stood so proudly up upon its stem,I knew no thought of fear,And coming very nearFell, overbalanced, to your garment's hem,Tearing it down. Now, stooping, I upgather, one by one,The crimson petals, allOutspread about my fall.They hold their fragrance still, a blood-red coneOf memory. And with my words I carve a little jarTo keep their scented dust,Which, opening, you mustBreathe to your soul, and, breathing, know me farMore grieved than you.
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