Late At Night

We made promises
While the day was still young.
Now it is night and I am
Picking up all the petals
From the flowers you gave me.
They were my favorite,
Pink and orange as I look
Out over the sunset.
They used to be beautiful
But they are now wilted
And dry. I try to remember
How they used to look
And feel like when I touched
Every petal with my fingers.
They were soft and delicate
As I traced every last one
Until they died. All the memories
Died and faded with them.
Promises were forgotten
And thrown away like
The flowers. All that is left is
In my mind and heart.
Everything is still felt there
As I still remember everything
With the flowers and everything else
That came with them.