Loving a flower is playing with danger,
and you must know, danger never warns,
so when you pluck me because you love me,
you forget I'm embellished with thorns.
Because you don't pluck the one's you love,
rather, you keep them alive.
So I let my love become your breaths
that filled your lungs, so you'd survive
But even love swoons into revenge,
and your love too was a fatal deed,
so watch my petals as they all wither,
but remember; my leaves helped you to breathe.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
Loving a flower is playing with danger,
and you must know, danger never warns,
so when you pluck me because you love me,
you forget I'm embellished with thorns.
Because you don't pluck the one's you love,
rather, you keep them alive.
So I let my love become your breaths
that filled your lungs, so you'd survive
But even love swoons into revenge,
and your love too was a fatal deed,
so watch my petals as they all wither,
but remember; my leaves helped you to breathe.
Request permission to use this poem