Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
At first, there were bubbles,
which turned into butterflies,
and then the butterflies grew into fireworks,
and everything was perfect.
Evntually though, the fireworks lost their spark and there was only fire.
The flames popped all the bubbles, killed the butterflies, and left my heart chard, and black.
And just like something burnt, I no longer feel anything anymore.
Bella Kiilani
Written by
Bella Kiilani
Please log in to view and add comments on poems