wilting is a a flower that is dead and gone it is a cancer patient losing hope and the saddest part is when you relize something is done wilting it is too late to save it because it is gone wilting is love that has lost its spark
swag
Wilting from the lack of hope. Without the gleaming hope of the future nothing can be accomplished. Nothing can be done to change what it has done. Nothing can be how it was before. Too much stress overpowers the little optimism that what is soon to come will be any better than what has recently passed
Life can end quickly as a wilting flower,or nearly last forever as a case of bottles on the bottom of the ocean floor.Looked at in this fashion,life is not so much as a pyramid as it is a circular cone.
I wilted like a flower in the heat of the sun at high noon. No one thought to check on me, to give me the life sustaining water I so desperately needed.
Kim
I wilted like a flower in the dead heat of the sun at high noon. No one thought to water me and so after standing tall in all my splendor, and bearing the brunt of the weather daily, I could no longer stand. I gave in, wilting. Bending. Afraid that no one would ever come. And this would be my end. I could dig gown deep. Surely there were some reseves. Some moisture I could cling to. If I dug deep enough. But after whethering many trials…..I was not at all sure that I even had the desire to get back up.
Kim
a flower is dying, giving up…. it struggles to hold on to it’s delicate petals as the wind blows by, the rain pours, or someone carelessly stomps by…. someone please pick me please….
Concetta
She hasn’t left her room in weeks. I would think she was dead if I didn’t hear her moving around at night. I could probably force her out if I stopped bringing food up, but… I haven’t.
wilting. makes me think of the kale i just bought, which was wilting a bit (i think?) when i bought it. not sure what makes something wilt… is it a lack of air or water? a presence of air or water? things don’t wilt as fast when they’re sealed in ziploc bags, not sure what that’s about. hmm, strange. i wonder if im supposed to interpret wilting in a more general, non-vegetable sense
joe
she couldn’t understand why the plant was wilting. She watered it often enough, and it was placed in decent sunlight! There was no reason for the plant to wilt whatsoever. Jess scratched her head thoughtfully. It had began to wilt around the time Jaime had walked out of her life. That couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?
panzieloz
Flowers wilt often. Usually when people do not care about them enough. They bend over, as if they are tired. They get cloudy looking. They get ugly. They die eventually.
I am the same way.
mary
the flowers were dying: every last one of them failing from the lack of sunshine and the stenchy of apathy remnant within the entire land. Nothing could save the wilting plants, no man, woman, child, earthquake or meteor. S
reuben
Petals fall, trees change into the new season. It’s infuriating that beautiful things fade.
eryn
Wilting heat. Wilting flowers. Wilting will to live. Wilting under stress. Willing to wilt in the desert when looking for water for the love of your life. Wilting confirms what happens to your male appendage when you age.
Paul Eveleigh
I tapped the wilting flower, and it shook dejectedly, like it was heaving a sigh. I plucked out a browning petal and stroked the velvety surface before dropping it on the pristine hospital floor. I should tell Mother to order another. She doesn’t like ordering flowers for him because she knows he purposely lets them die. He says he likes to have something around experiencing the same things as he is.
Summer
smoking to ashes
deppression to hope
sadness to joy
hatred to love
forgotten to unconditional
Hardships are wilting
joy is coming
because God is working.
Alyssa Kellar
One day I was at the park. Mom was wilting and was so as my grandmother’s hair. The hot dogs were too and the chips were shrinking.
Alyssa Kellar
Her husband was gone. There was a wilting bouquet of flowers sitting on the kitchen counter. She didn’t have the heart to throw them out. He gave them to her on their last day together – the last time she saw him – the last time she would ever see him…
Kristen
It’s so incredibly hot outside, she was wilting under the pressure of the humidity. Seems like all that sweat pouring off should keep her from wilting, huh?
But no, she drank water as fast as it poured out of her.
A Freedman
The flowers that she bought were quickly wilting, she worried they wouldn’t be as dress for the open house.
Leaves are drooping, summer is ending. Water hasn’t come in weeks, and we know what that means. Brown, brown everywhere. Begging for…something. And what comes? Frost, cold, oblivion. Nothing nice here, just cooler temperatures, shorter days, and the knowledge that soon, the world will be white, and you will want to stay indoors all day.
Chris Hammond
I walked home,
On a Saturday evening,
Slightly intoxicated by the whiskey,
And even more by your scent,
Making me understand the nostalgia that warped my passage,
And led me back to that house.
Where everything was sunny,
The flowers bloomed,
And our lives were perfect.
I didn’t know where I was when I arrived.
All the flowers were dead.
flower wilts in the vase, long forgotten about. the stem rots into the water, slipping into a messy soup on nutrients and plant parts, celss and strings. it wilts while the vase holds it, it wilts while everything around it goes on dying, if just slower
maddie
Wilting flowers
Wilting people
Hands with veins
Faces with wrinkles
Age spots
Sun spots
Dead leaves
Something leaks
Freckles on his back and cheeks
I want to count them
Count them all
Brieana
I am wilting away into the ground. back to where my body began. I do not remember this place, but I know that one day I must return back to it. back to my very beginning. To where I can begin again.
Kelsey M
She was wilting. Not at all what I expected. Instead of the lovely flower of youth, what I was introduced to was a wrinkled, faded woman.
Ann M. Lynn
the sadness of existing
is what once was green
is now wilting
we are all wilting
Taylor
The roses were wilting fast, mere hours after I had bought them. I wasn’t quite sure what was wrong, so I went back to the floral shop and asked.
“Oh, it’s typical of the type you got,” said the shopkeeper nonchalantly as I focused on a long, disgusting hair spiraling out of his left nostril. “Temporary beauty.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not normal.”
“YOU’RE NOT NORMAL!” he suddenly bellowed.
Belinda Roddie
God, it’s just like it always is with us. You and I sit staring at one another, me with a goofy grin on my face and you with some kind of falsely mirrored expression that I’m meant to accept to mean you’re on the same page. You never are though. I can tell by the way your footsteps echo through the house, wilting.
Kathryn
The flowers in the vase were wilting. The yellow petals tinged brown at the edges. The Leaves drooped and were staring to fall off. Everything was rotting.
rachel
We were wilting
waning with out
proper will
we no longer wander
we want
we want
I have never wilted.
I am not a tragedy.
I’m breathing
and alive.
Sometimes my skin gets tighter,
but I am not a tragedy
and my heart cannot really break
as long as i’m still breathing.
Although the flowers were sturdy, my body was wilting. My limbs, like forgotten flowers, gasping for life.
lauren
Wilting is what happens at the end of a summer. You’re dying, and you can’t go back, and you can’t go forward, so you stand there with stubborn eyes and wilt. You realize this was always your story. It always will be. You are gone.
O
It’s so hot outside that I feel like a flower wilting.
Flower petals wilting, shriveling up like melting confetti. Shattered rainbows rain down and turn brown, around the sun and under the bridge where my dreams lie dormant. My colorful life wilts away with my hope.
The trees were wilting around, there seemed to be a terrible accident that occurred around. Something strange that happened. I could not see what, until I looked further ahead down the road where the trees were lush and behind me they were wilting, but as I stood in one place the intensity of the wilting became stronger. I was the one who was doing this. I am the disease.
Bryan
A wild wilting before her eyes. Blades of grass dulled, flame leaves moped and soaked. The land sighed goodbye to the light.
I’m not wilting. That’s what I know right now. I might in the future, I might have in the past. But it apparently is not permanent, because time didn’t leave me that way before and I won’t let it leave me that way later.
The flower was drooping in it’s multicolored glass vase, and Krystal watched it, her own face falling. It had only been two days since he left. The flower was her only reminder of his dimpled cheeks, crooked smile, and tousled brown hair.
wilting is a a flower that is dead and gone it is a cancer patient losing hope and the saddest part is when you relize something is done wilting it is too late to save it because it is gone wilting is love that has lost its spark
Wilting from the lack of hope. Without the gleaming hope of the future nothing can be accomplished. Nothing can be done to change what it has done. Nothing can be how it was before. Too much stress overpowers the little optimism that what is soon to come will be any better than what has recently passed
Life can end quickly as a wilting flower,or nearly last forever as a case of bottles on the bottom of the ocean floor.Looked at in this fashion,life is not so much as a pyramid as it is a circular cone.
I wilted like a flower in the heat of the sun at high noon. No one thought to check on me, to give me the life sustaining water I so desperately needed.
I wilted like a flower in the dead heat of the sun at high noon. No one thought to water me and so after standing tall in all my splendor, and bearing the brunt of the weather daily, I could no longer stand. I gave in, wilting. Bending. Afraid that no one would ever come. And this would be my end. I could dig gown deep. Surely there were some reseves. Some moisture I could cling to. If I dug deep enough. But after whethering many trials…..I was not at all sure that I even had the desire to get back up.
a flower is dying, giving up…. it struggles to hold on to it’s delicate petals as the wind blows by, the rain pours, or someone carelessly stomps by…. someone please pick me please….
She hasn’t left her room in weeks. I would think she was dead if I didn’t hear her moving around at night. I could probably force her out if I stopped bringing food up, but… I haven’t.
wilting. makes me think of the kale i just bought, which was wilting a bit (i think?) when i bought it. not sure what makes something wilt… is it a lack of air or water? a presence of air or water? things don’t wilt as fast when they’re sealed in ziploc bags, not sure what that’s about. hmm, strange. i wonder if im supposed to interpret wilting in a more general, non-vegetable sense
she couldn’t understand why the plant was wilting. She watered it often enough, and it was placed in decent sunlight! There was no reason for the plant to wilt whatsoever. Jess scratched her head thoughtfully. It had began to wilt around the time Jaime had walked out of her life. That couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?
Flowers wilt often. Usually when people do not care about them enough. They bend over, as if they are tired. They get cloudy looking. They get ugly. They die eventually.
I am the same way.
the flowers were dying: every last one of them failing from the lack of sunshine and the stenchy of apathy remnant within the entire land. Nothing could save the wilting plants, no man, woman, child, earthquake or meteor. S
Petals fall, trees change into the new season. It’s infuriating that beautiful things fade.
Wilting heat. Wilting flowers. Wilting will to live. Wilting under stress. Willing to wilt in the desert when looking for water for the love of your life. Wilting confirms what happens to your male appendage when you age.
I tapped the wilting flower, and it shook dejectedly, like it was heaving a sigh. I plucked out a browning petal and stroked the velvety surface before dropping it on the pristine hospital floor. I should tell Mother to order another. She doesn’t like ordering flowers for him because she knows he purposely lets them die. He says he likes to have something around experiencing the same things as he is.
smoking to ashes
deppression to hope
sadness to joy
hatred to love
forgotten to unconditional
Hardships are wilting
joy is coming
because God is working.
One day I was at the park. Mom was wilting and was so as my grandmother’s hair. The hot dogs were too and the chips were shrinking.
Her husband was gone. There was a wilting bouquet of flowers sitting on the kitchen counter. She didn’t have the heart to throw them out. He gave them to her on their last day together – the last time she saw him – the last time she would ever see him…
It’s so incredibly hot outside, she was wilting under the pressure of the humidity. Seems like all that sweat pouring off should keep her from wilting, huh?
But no, she drank water as fast as it poured out of her.
The flowers that she bought were quickly wilting, she worried they wouldn’t be as dress for the open house.
Fresh infusions of water only last for so long.
The clouds are dissipating.
Windows appear.
Sunny days are ahead.
Leaves are drooping, summer is ending. Water hasn’t come in weeks, and we know what that means. Brown, brown everywhere. Begging for…something. And what comes? Frost, cold, oblivion. Nothing nice here, just cooler temperatures, shorter days, and the knowledge that soon, the world will be white, and you will want to stay indoors all day.
I walked home,
On a Saturday evening,
Slightly intoxicated by the whiskey,
And even more by your scent,
Making me understand the nostalgia that warped my passage,
And led me back to that house.
Where everything was sunny,
The flowers bloomed,
And our lives were perfect.
I didn’t know where I was when I arrived.
All the flowers were dead.
flower wilts in the vase, long forgotten about. the stem rots into the water, slipping into a messy soup on nutrients and plant parts, celss and strings. it wilts while the vase holds it, it wilts while everything around it goes on dying, if just slower
Wilting flowers
Wilting people
Hands with veins
Faces with wrinkles
Age spots
Sun spots
Dead leaves
Something leaks
Freckles on his back and cheeks
I want to count them
Count them all
I am wilting away into the ground. back to where my body began. I do not remember this place, but I know that one day I must return back to it. back to my very beginning. To where I can begin again.
She was wilting. Not at all what I expected. Instead of the lovely flower of youth, what I was introduced to was a wrinkled, faded woman.
the sadness of existing
is what once was green
is now wilting
we are all wilting
The roses were wilting fast, mere hours after I had bought them. I wasn’t quite sure what was wrong, so I went back to the floral shop and asked.
“Oh, it’s typical of the type you got,” said the shopkeeper nonchalantly as I focused on a long, disgusting hair spiraling out of his left nostril. “Temporary beauty.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not normal.”
“YOU’RE NOT NORMAL!” he suddenly bellowed.
God, it’s just like it always is with us. You and I sit staring at one another, me with a goofy grin on my face and you with some kind of falsely mirrored expression that I’m meant to accept to mean you’re on the same page. You never are though. I can tell by the way your footsteps echo through the house, wilting.
The flowers in the vase were wilting. The yellow petals tinged brown at the edges. The Leaves drooped and were staring to fall off. Everything was rotting.
We were wilting
waning with out
proper will
we no longer wander
we want
we want
I have never wilted.
I am not a tragedy.
I’m breathing
and alive.
Sometimes my skin gets tighter,
but I am not a tragedy
and my heart cannot really break
as long as i’m still breathing.
Although the flowers were sturdy, my body was wilting. My limbs, like forgotten flowers, gasping for life.
Wilting is what happens at the end of a summer. You’re dying, and you can’t go back, and you can’t go forward, so you stand there with stubborn eyes and wilt. You realize this was always your story. It always will be. You are gone.
It’s so hot outside that I feel like a flower wilting.
When is it proper to wilt?
When it’s hotter than the hinges of hell!
I wilting. You wilting. We all wilting.
Enough of this summer heat already.
Oh yeah, and happy birthday to me.
Flower petals wilting, shriveling up like melting confetti. Shattered rainbows rain down and turn brown, around the sun and under the bridge where my dreams lie dormant. My colorful life wilts away with my hope.
The trees were wilting around, there seemed to be a terrible accident that occurred around. Something strange that happened. I could not see what, until I looked further ahead down the road where the trees were lush and behind me they were wilting, but as I stood in one place the intensity of the wilting became stronger. I was the one who was doing this. I am the disease.
A wild wilting before her eyes. Blades of grass dulled, flame leaves moped and soaked. The land sighed goodbye to the light.
I’m not wilting. That’s what I know right now. I might in the future, I might have in the past. But it apparently is not permanent, because time didn’t leave me that way before and I won’t let it leave me that way later.
The flower was drooping in it’s multicolored glass vase, and Krystal watched it, her own face falling. It had only been two days since he left. The flower was her only reminder of his dimpled cheeks, crooked smile, and tousled brown hair.