Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
May flowers, from April showers
But some flowers are year-round
As if they possess some magical powers
As if they have life abound

May flowers, sour and wilt
As they're crushed by what we built
And although I never laid a brick on the house of fear
I can't help but feel like I caused it to be here

Being afraid of what lies ahead
My older skin, my toughness, I shed
Losing the aid of a tough exterior
I've broken down, falling apart in the interior

I channel my fears into my arts
Ignoring my brain and preferring my heart

But this made it harder to make the right choice
And when I was confronted with your mesmerizing voice
I made the wrong one
I told myself that I was done
But I wasn't strong enough to make the right decision
And now between us, there's never been a greater schism.

You were my Mayflower
The ship that brought me to a new world
Now you're some evil power
Dragging me down to the cold.

My mayflower wilted by my own home
an irony unconsidered by my flesh and bone

For safety brought you only pain
And now the greater pow'r is my shame
And besides you, whom I won't blame
There's no one with which to share the game.
Nathan Porter
Written by
Nathan Porter  16/M/Owosso, MI
(16/M/Owosso, MI)   
152
   Isabel Fields, Cné and Poetic T
Please log in to view and add comments on poems