Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
azure Aug 26
there once was a fox
who wished he could be white as the snow
so he piled it on
but his breathing grew slow

there once was a flower
with petals so rare
that they would sparkle and shimmer
as they flew through the air

there once was a boy
with a heart full of gold
his mind painted melodies
and stories were told

till a man came along
said his heart should be green
and somehow, in an instant,
his life lost all meaning

the flower was told
“spread your roots far and wide”
by the tall standing oak tree
who was never defied

but the flower said
“no, i’d much rather dig deep
i’ll find my own water
i’m a plant, not a sheep”

that poor little fox
would soon pass away
from the weight and the cold
of the standards of today

well the boy took a stroll
his legs moved with power
as he walked up a hill
and set his eyes on the flower

he’d planted all those years ago
when his mind used to dance
when he lived life on the edge
took every risk and every chance

his heart started to beat
as the flower shared its treasure
his spirit was the fox
and the boys’ name was azure
azure Aug 24
dark star dark star
i know nothing of you
yet i know i love you
dark star dark star
they say i shine bright
but even i am blinded by your radiance
dark star dark star
you look like an angel
and I am merely lost soul
dark star dark star
they say shoot for the stars
still, i fall short of my
dark star dark star
azure Aug 24
i was gifted by god
or so they say
“you’re a natural!” “be a writer!”
my words blew them away

and now I hold my pencil
my passion leads my hands
and as i sit here at my desk I realize
i ******* hate rhyming

you see, i said i hold my pencil
but i really hold my heart
and every verse i write for you i share a little part
of my life, my love, my story, and even now i start

to shed a little tear for we’ll always be apart
i know you’d get me dark star, the artists always do
and though my name is azure, i hate the color blue
and though you’ve got me rhyming, i’ll always hate that too

but you don’t care about my story
you only care about conformity
and so you put pressure pressure pressure
and as you press down on my “pencil”
suddenly i’ve lost the point

— The End —