Jun 2015
There is a flower
blooming in my heart
waiting for the one
to pick it so gently
for now they hold
who I am now
their love is it's life.
but mine is still here
withering
shivering
cold and alone
It waits for your warm hands to hold
blooming in my heart
waiting for the one
to pick it so gently
for now they hold
who I am now
their love is it's life.
but mine is still here
withering
shivering
cold and alone
It waits for your warm hands to hold
So many times have I let it get picked only to be forgotten. A flower can't simply be re planted. It will always retain past injury, but it still always waits, it still tries to live.
(29/M/USA)
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