Stood Outside Number 78

The Flat

To one person passing they see a man ready for a date.
A bouquet of bright flowers cooly resting in his arm,
a weighted box of chocolates held in his hand,
awaiting the door to open, to be greeted with a kiss
and welcomed in, for her to be happy with the thought,
the gifts.

Another person, the one with a tough, knitted brow,
one who has faced the loneliness, now and then,
will not expect the door to open, for they can see
the heavy tulip heads and their drooping bow, tired,
wilting, paired with the chocolates bought at half-price,
melting.

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