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Rose 3d
This gaping hole that cannot be filled,
A father's love I have never known,
An undying yearning, seemingly instilled.

I'm like a child, with tears being spilled,
Crying for that bond, that love of my own,
This gaping hole that cannot be filled.

The promise of protection, never unfulfilled,
Someone to remind me I'll never be alone,
An undying yearning, seemingly instilled.

What if he was here, had never been killed?
Would he speak with a loving tone?
This gaping hole that cannot be filled.

To be wrapped in his arms is my will,
This hope hurts my heart, my every bone.
This gaping hole that cannot be filled,
An undying yearning, seemingly instilled
I wish I had my dad
Rose 3d
Often, but not always,
It feels like talking to a wall.
You do it without knowing,
Like I'm talking to no one at all.

Every now and then,
You may throw in a word.
But you're still not listening,
And I'm left unheard

Maybe I should stop trying,
Keep it all in my head.
I'd rather speak less,
Than be ignored instead.
The feeling of speaking but not being heard.
Rose 3d
A shovel in one hand, a seed in another,
I know it'll be a flower, not anything other.
Though, you ask me what it is I think I'll see,
"A flower.", and you say "How can that be?".

I know what I'm planting; but you question it so,
If you're not the one planting it how would you know?
You say I'm wrong about what it'll grow into,
You keep implying and I start to think it may be true.

I no longer show you any of the flowers I grow,
When I did, you refused to see what I showed.
I'll keep then a secret, mine from now on,
It's no longer your place to tell me what I plant is "wrong".
A poem about when my feelings become diminished. A poem about someone telling me how I should feel.
Rose 4d
Please don't leave me by my lonesome,
It's a dangerous place to be.
Creeping out from the depths of silence,
Nothing can hurt like how my mind hurts me.

Its become frightening to be happy,
Never knowing how long it'll last.
It's easier constantly being in a dark place,
I knew that my future would mirror my past.

If I knew happiness would last forever,
I could find peace in solitude someday.
But while my mind remains as such,
This war within cannot be kept at bay.
I'm always scared that this happiness will leave and i'll be left in the dark again. It's so hard to find the light in darkness, idk if i'd have the strength to do it again.
Rose 4d
Now
Oftentimes, when I close my eyes,
Hidden fears take that chance to arise.
Within these fears is a life without you,
I'd sell my soul for it to remain untrue.

Imagine the sun, devoid of it's rays,
And the nights, left without it's days.
In that same way I'd be incomplete,
For how do you sing a song that's lost it's beat?

But alas, I have fears I don't allow,
To keep me from solace, because I have you now.
I will not fret over a future that may or may not be,
Because at least in the now, you're here with me.
There is no such thing as love without him.
Rose Aug 29
If i could share with you,
The depths of my love from inside.
Embedded in each one of these words,
An adoration for you presides.

But within this sonnet,
I can only entail so much.
For how am i to explain,
The parts of my heart you have touched.

I could say that,
Within the warmth of your embrace.
It’s a feeling found new,
For ive never felt so safe.

Or i could say,
When youre holding my hand.
Our hearts know it to be true,
There’s nothing we can’t withstand.

And when the days become rough,
No hope found in view.
I know i can always go home,
And home lies with you.
For my other half whom i love dearly
Rose Aug 23
I’m sorry you never bloomed,
You never grew petals of color.
You don’t shine a beautiful hue,
For you’ve grown to be another.

As a growing sprout,
You were stepped on and crushed.
A growing cloud of doubt,
Turned all your hope into dust.

So in your seasons of bloom,
You noticed you began to wilt.
Your leaves, the face of gloom,
Your stem, filled with guilt.

You’re not yet full grown,
But anyone can see.
A wilting sprout unknown,
Will only mature to be a ****.

And now a dying plant,
With nutrients sour.
When your mind is askant,
Your heart still weeps to flower.
I wrote this back in middle school. I remember this poem being the first thing i’ve ever done that I was proud of.

— The End —