Al Skye Lindsey

May 2016

Stephan

.

*If I were a poem
I’d ask you to fold me up
and put me in your pocket,
then at the end of the week,
toss me in the wash
with the rest of the clothes

And when you find me later,
smudged and smeared,
ripped and tattered into
little unrecognizable pieces,
don’t worry about it,
I was already like that

I have been notified that this poem was plagiarized and posted on Poetfreak by someone using the name Blurry Face. I can assure you, this is my poem.

May 2016

niamh

The lost rose

For tears that fall
On hollow cheeks
When the weeks feel like years
And the years feel like weeks.

And you sit by a grave
Where the roses grow
But the rose that you seek
Is buried below.

You have my heart
Heavy with sorrow
For the velvet rose
With no tomorrow.

Absolutely over the moon (if a little shocked) to see that this piece made the daily. Thank you all so much for your comments - I promise to reply to you all individually at some point soon. It was an extremely emotional, difficult, but ultimately cathartic write. Dedicated to our wee Shane, who we will never forget ***

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