one day ill lay beneath the flowers
my soul blossoming outwards,
only to be compressed by the soil.
once more rejected, failing to love...
poor little me, won't know what else to do..!
but tear into themselves,
crying for all of eternity...
but they say that tragedy is a beauty,
which is why the flowers blossom
over my pitiful grave.
and isn't it funny...?
laughable almost,
to be the source of your own misery