a memory, fragmented, like broken glass
delivered flowers, wrong address,
the street silent, a whisper of past
kain sarung on a plastic chair,
time's echo, in the hollow air
my future self watches, detached,
a spectator of my own missteps,
the weight of petals, misplaced,
lingering scent of roses,
lost in the mundane spaces
a door unopened, a story untold,
mistakes woven into the fabric of days,
each petal a reminder,
of paths taken in error,
and the silence that follows
yet in this quiet misdirection,
a lesson blooms, unnoticed,
the wrong door, a teacher,
in the stillness of routine,
meaning found amid the ordinary