Branches grow through the spring,
Sharp like a razor blade.
The thorns reach out and grab a victim,
Cuts so deep, each memory, each reflection.
Winter comes for scars to hide,
But underneath the cuts are wide.
Wears it like a disguise from normality,
But sill gets judged by reality.
Summer comes where you're faced with fire,
Now it can't be hidden, the urge and desire.
Autumn leaves start to fall,
But you still hang on the tree, away from them all.
Seasons change, and memory's too,
But I'll never forget.
Not a day goes by when I don't smile,
But let's try be happy, just for a while
Seasons change, and memory's too,
But you'll never forget what has become of you.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
Branches grow through the spring,
Sharp like a razor blade.
The thorns reach out and grab a victim,
Cuts so deep, each memory, each reflection.
Winter comes for scars to hide,
But underneath the cuts are wide.
Wears it like a disguise from normality,
But sill gets judged by reality.
Summer comes where you're faced with fire,
Now it can't be hidden, the urge and desire.
Autumn leaves start to fall,
But you still hang on the tree, away from them all.
Seasons change, and memory's too,
But I'll never forget.
Not a day goes by when I don't smile,
But let's try be happy, just for a while
Seasons change, and memory's too,
But you'll never forget what has become of you.
Request permission to use this poem