[Writing] Love Me Not

I sit at my usual place on old Dusky Hill,
A place where the warm air stands still,
In a small spot of grass near the top,
Where time itself seems to come to a stop.

I reach down and pluck a flower from below,
A pretty white daisy with petals that glow,
I remember an old game I used to play,
and softly under my breath begin to say,

"He loves me, he loves me not."

One by one the petals of the plant desend,
Gently plunging to meet their eternal end,
Floating softly without a single sound,
Like falling tears upon the soft ground.

But as the flower slowly turns bare,
I slowly but surely become aware,
The odds of winning were not in my favor,
And would decrease everytime that I aver,

"He loves me, he loves me not."

The clouds grow dark and the sky thickens,
My body shivers and heartrate quickens,
A light rain starts and dampens my fur,
But from this flower my eyes just cannot deter,

When I got down to just the last two,
It was then that I finally knew,
I was already destined to lose this game,
And all I could do is hang my head in shame.

"He loves me, he loves me not."

Now, to you it may be a game in its core,
But to me it was something much, much more,
For it represented thus far my entire life,
And the sad truth cut through me like a knife.

God, you know I don't ask for much,
But I have to know these basics and such,
I just wanna know your reason and your rhyme,
I just wanna know if it's worth my time.

"Does he love me, or does he love me not?"

I pull the last petal out with tears in my eye,
And open my mouth to let out a sad sigh,
I sadly rest my head against my soaked paw,
Gently trying to wipe away the tears with a claw.

Flinging the spent flower to the side,
I get ready to go back with my ruined pride.
Though my body aches and my heart is in pain,
I silently make my way home through the rain.

"He loves me... he loves me not."