It's Not Mine to Know, Sorry Nonetheless

Delicate, savage.

Save me the details,
We all know that a flower wilts.

That I get to see the peak of its life,
Means too that I must accept it's only appropriate to see its end.

Beautiful, limited.

You know the time that is left.
Though it does not know.
Yet neither of you can see the number on your own timer.

Is it even fair to wait, in that case?

Treasured, wasted.

I never wanted to look behind the curtain,
But you opened the blinds for me anyway.

A despicable thing, to have a tally on the days for another.

It’s really none of my business,
But it sours the genuine nature of what could have been.

Determined, despaired.

Not that it really matters
The timer is always present,
The knowledge however, should not be.