“All my roses like to go,”
He says looking outside.
“I am sure they’ll come again,
In the spring they’ll come out,
Wherever they do hide,
And I’ll be able to rest.”
Something has eaten my flowers...again
And I am not sure who to blame.
I take such nice care of them
But they never seem to grow.
Maybe there is a mole…
Yes feasting away my crop
Or perhaps I am too early
And the chill has made them stop.
I say laments and I cry
But all I ever do
Is shrivel up and die.
I will try something else,
Roses always die too soon
I will try something else!
And then I do nothing.
Weeds and vines grow about
Clogging my drains as they sprout.
My garden feels empty
All I want is one thing
But then I'm left with plenty.
You once had a nice presence
Here some time ago
But then one day you stopped
And left me all alone.
Roses, they are telling me
That I am not the one they want
Somehow I’m not good enough
And I should just stop.
Barbous thing you tricked me
Was it ever mine to want
That i gave you all the conditions
And you gave me naught.
So I look in puddles
And hear about others success
But all I do is wilt
And in it I regress.
I feel like gypsum
A minor step in between
Stale and used
Time has expired for me.
Why are there so many vines,
Why is there so many weeds,
All vexing me in all directions
I wish I could fall asleep.
My face is cracking plaster
As I start to weep
I feel my mind sinking
And I start to dream.
You are the ****** one
With little of success.
I am the ****** one,
They know what is best.
I changed everything
So i could be adequate
I played the role they liked
But in the end I am looked at
In bitter thoughts and spite.
There is a curious thing
growing in my garden.
The vines have blossomed
And the weeds bear fruit.
Is this the allure of sadness
Or just an unrealized truth
Because I sit and look
At the thing I ignored.
So here I take
What has been given
And we brush away
The mistake I’m living
So stop with all this fake peace
You should have been
Honest with me.
So find some sugar songbird,
You can bury me alive.
But I’m not the one
Having something to hide.
Here is my garden,
There is plenty of space
And i don’t want to live
Under your passive glance.
Here is my chance
I’ll try to let go.
But I am the memory of someone
They will always know.
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 1:37 PM UTC
“All my roses like to go,”
He says looking outside.
“I am sure they’ll come again,
In the spring they’ll come out,
Wherever they do hide,
And I’ll be able to rest.”
Something has eaten my flowers...again
And I am not sure who to blame.
I take such nice care of them
But they never seem to grow.
Maybe there is a mole…
Yes feasting away my crop
Or perhaps I am too early
And the chill has made them stop.
I say laments and I cry
But all I ever do
Is shrivel up and die.
I will try something else,
Roses always die too soon
I will try something else!
And then I do nothing.
Weeds and vines grow about
Clogging my drains as they sprout.
My garden feels empty
All I want is one thing
But then I'm left with plenty.
You once had a nice presence
Here some time ago
But then one day you stopped
And left me all alone.
Roses, they are telling me
That I am not the one they want
Somehow I’m not good enough
And I should just stop.
Barbous thing you tricked me
Was it ever mine to want
That i gave you all the conditions
And you gave me naught.
So I look in puddles
And hear about others success
But all I do is wilt
And in it I regress.
I feel like gypsum
A minor step in between
Stale and used
Time has expired for me.
Why are there so many vines,
Why is there so many weeds,
All vexing me in all directions
I wish I could fall asleep.
My face is cracking plaster
As I start to weep
I feel my mind sinking
And I start to dream.
You are the ****** one
With little of success.
I am the ****** one,
They know what is best.
I changed everything
So i could be adequate
I played the role they liked
But in the end I am looked at
In bitter thoughts and spite.
There is a curious thing
growing in my garden.
The vines have blossomed
And the weeds bear fruit.
Is this the allure of sadness
Or just an unrealized truth
Because I sit and look
At the thing I ignored.
So here I take
What has been given
And we brush away
The mistake I’m living
So stop with all this fake peace
You should have been
Honest with me.
So find some sugar songbird,
You can bury me alive.
But I’m not the one
Having something to hide.
Here is my garden,
There is plenty of space
And i don’t want to live
Under your passive glance.
Here is my chance
I’ll try to let go.
But I am the memory of someone
They will always know.