You never knew the garden
I grew from within
or the ripe honeysuckles
intertwined with my ribs
you never pressed your mouth
to my pink prim-rose lips
or felt your hands laced
between my fern fingertips
you never saw the buttercups
brim behind my eyes
or the soft blue forget-me-nots
speckling my thighs
you never heard my voice
not a laugh, not a word
so don’t tell me I’m missing
what you found in her.
gotta get something out of these emotions
Hey you , I got this flower for you to hold
It's not the most beautiful , but it'll last through the cold .
Even when there's a drought , it will never grow old
It will remain to make sure these stories are told
Once in awhile you could set it on the ledge
And forget it was there , like containing a wedge
In-between two objects, with a indecisive pledge
But in those times , i'd hope you'd take it off that ledge
Gaze upon it and see your reflection
Cause your a gift like this flower is of my affection
Your too beautiful for even my recollection
Second guessing never existed
And when its petals finally wilt
Spray it down with your feelings of guilt
Let it know how horrible it felt
Give it love and water , like you know it needs help
But forgive it for all the smiles it has dealt
It's a flower , it's Beauty is made to melt
Your response to it , is my love in a nut shell
And this is the story this flower will never grow old to tell .
There is peace that I am feeling
sting of my skin peeling
all your love in my blood, leaking
my world is spinning
out of control, what is this meaning?
really I need revealing
so I can start my healing
finally build my home again
this time with a ceiling
to stop all this raining
cause I'm soaked , and tired of being
comfort in letting go , comfort in believing
it's only me now , I'm deceiving myself
I feel there's no cure to relieving this
still now I set a time every day for my grieving
it feels comfortable getting your revenge
What the hell happened to my life ?
you [believed in true love]
are now in bygone memories
held together with blue
on a backdrop of
monochrome lines and ornate golden
to the wasurenagusa girl
It’s strange to be a stranger to you
Even though years have passed,
I hope you think of me
And how we made it last.
Your golden curls and goofy smile,
Burned inside my memory
School yard parks late at night,
The way you made me smile,
Oh so bright.
I wonder what you are doing now,
I hope you are happy and not alone.
I hope you found laughter
And a love that healed and was strongly grown.
Do you remember how we told each other everything,
How proud I was of the silly twisted bracelet ring?
Are you still Afraid if lady bugs,
The way they fly, they way they crawl?
Do you still give the world's warmest hugs,
Is Elmo is the best above all?
I grew up loving you,
So I beginning to accept that will never change,
But the fact that I don't know you any more,
will always be forever strange....
about my first love. Reminiscing on teenage love and how you never can seem to let that first one go...
10 years from now
I hope to see you glow
Bask in glory and happiness
Live life with no sorrow
Maybe you've forgotten
The conversations we've had
But if you still remember me
I'll forgive you for that
How silly is the little flower
to think that it has such a large impact
on anyone's life.
It's as if it says
"I know I am just a flower
and it's well past the hour
but you picked me from the rest
so I must be the best.
So when I leave,
don't forget me please."
But it's just a little flower
that was chosen for no other reason
than to bring a little bit of happiness.
Yet the flower still speaks,
"I don't understand what you understand
but I know that I am not anything grand.
But it was me that you chose.
You watered me with the hose
and I have grown to be old
but now everything I feel is cold."
Poor little flower,
how long have you been here?
Shivering and shriviling.
But bless your soul you still speak.
"I know some time has passed
since I saw you last.
But I remember your sad smile
and how you had to sit down for awhile.
Your thin white hair has become flat
and I no longer see you sit where you sat."
That small, old flower,
drooped one last time.
With one last sigh
the flower picker spoke.
"I'm sorry little flower
it is well past my hour
and you're as thin as my hair
that has become so brittle without care.
But don't you worry
he is coming in a hurry
and I will not forget you
if you will forget-me-not, too."