A bunch of sunflowers, a batch of pink tulips
A bush of roses and the oppressive jasmine.
I've kept them in the sun, like you said.
I worry often, they seem to wilt and die
Without even a little blossom.
It's the prime of spring, the butterflies forsake my garden.
The once lush leaves are now yellow and muddy,
the earth underneath fuzzy and dry.
They stay still, even though I water them everyday with your love.
A large gush of wind brought along a violent thunderstorm. I stood there covering the cadaver with my hands. The yellow leaves drenched with water drops. My teeth clattered and my toes were cold.
I don't know how, darling but I watched your love catch fire even under a downpour of the heaviest rain.
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC
A bunch of sunflowers, a batch of pink tulips
A bush of roses and the oppressive jasmine.
I've kept them in the sun, like you said.
I worry often, they seem to wilt and die
Without even a little blossom.
It's the prime of spring, the butterflies forsake my garden.
The once lush leaves are now yellow and muddy,
the earth underneath fuzzy and dry.
They stay still, even though I water them everyday with your love.
A large gush of wind brought along a violent thunderstorm. I stood there covering the cadaver with my hands. The yellow leaves drenched with water drops. My teeth clattered and my toes were cold.
I don't know how, darling but I watched your love catch fire even under a downpour of the heaviest rain.
