There was a time when she cared To satisfy any need of yours, she was prepared You gave her just enough to stay And stay she did everyday There was a glimmer of hope that she will receive love back Every song related back to you, every soundtrack One day, 3 am at night she laid there Room dark, status of you being online a glare She watched it switch offline, realising you never replied Finally it ******* hit her that to be her lover you were never qualified Males are only useful if they are fertile Men are trash was not just a insta post, it became a lifestyle If liking men was a choice Trust me when i say i would have yeeted the boys.
So sick of tired of men that i drafted out a whole poem. Enjoy ;)
darling, don’t bother buying roses uprooted, torn from the fertile, nourishing earth they only wither away, glazed with the mourning dew
another bus-ride write. again, not my best... i’ll prolly post again in a couple of weeks, midterms are coming up. it always made me sad when my dad bought my mom flowers. once, they were alight with life, the truest beauty. now confined to a clear water-filled vase, on display for the world, only to die days later. ty for reading. im going to try and stay away from angsty love poems for my next couple of poems, maybe something happier ;)
^^quick note: mourning refers to tears and is a play on the word morning~