How am i going to figure it out
when the figures are faint.
How am i going to stay up,
If you look down on me,
Or maybe i don't look up to you.
Flora worshiped us in the pathways,
On our way to bliss,
To say least of the sunflowers.
The grass made a run,
Yellow honey combed flowers would bow.
We lived us in the epic times,
Whispers and the silence on us,
Wow!! It gave us goosebumps .
It was magic perfection,
None from the witches and wizards.
Prime you were to me,
Only I would understand,
Alas you didn't get me.
You became even, not only me
Would get into you.
Now I've figured it out,
Not all figures are prime.
I'm not going to stay up,
You look down on me.
And I'm never going to look up to you.
this poem is about how a person changed or grew from being this person to that person. It is subjective if the person changed in a bad way but all still is change, unfortunately it is perceived a bad change by those that you would have left or decide to go separate ways with.