The Wilting Flower

With petals as graceful and beautiful as gold
My petals fall in a story retold
With life blooming at the seams
My spikes seem the worst in taking ease
As times grow and you gain power
No one would look at me; the wilting flower

In a dance of individuality
I get pulled down with the forces of gravity
In time to spare that is not forgiven
My time goes, as if I've fully liven
As you grow higher and I grow lower
No one would look at me; the wilting flower

In a futile chance to relive one more hour
No one will think of the wilting flower