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Don't ever let me go
We sing surrounded by roses
Candle light waltzes
But who's at fault

It fizzles away, baby
Nothing gold can stay
Winter melts to May
And candles waltz

Pricked by the roses
Picked by the boy
And then it melts away
And it just goes away
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, mind block not really posting a lot these days;-|


keeping now foot on gas
paining away drowns on piles

stashing upon jokes on types
watching with characters on hope

leaving before fall on love
starring because stars on align

dancing to listen on piano notes
writing for heart on no rhyme


                                                                                        ------ravenfeels
Eloisa 7d
And she adorned her evenings
with roses and rhymes,
words and thorns.
A night even with her sacred vessels,
she still got lost in a storm
A Jun 6
I always wanted to blow my mind

To get swept away,
dance through roses and sorrow,
colour my soul with the paint from the sky,
to tickle my belly with the sun, even when it's grey

I never thought I actually would

And then, I never thought I would be stuck here

In dreams, melancholy, fantasies and daydreams about skies so beautiful I would never ever want to look outside my soul
And warmth so tempting I could never feel the refreshing cold reality

I just never saw this coming

And it just feels impossible, you know?
To go from fluffy, yellow mist to harsh, sweet life
To be awake, to not go back to safe, old dreams
To ignore the moon smiling at you, to stop believing you're actually going to be special
because in an ordinary world, the only way you are someone is in your head
Ashanti May 11
Like a rose your smell is sweet and relaxing the blood in my veins run red like your color like a rose the love in my heart for you runs deeper than it’s thorns but just like a rose you caused me hurt you used your thorns to draw my blood and make it your own then I think to myself how can something so beautiful so rich in smell and pigment cause so much hurt ?
#fragrance
Petrichor May 5
Dirt
         You've turned into dirt.

Twisted away in fragile positions,
You've turned into dirt.
          How does it feel to be this vulnerable?

To be plucked from your home, and bought with dirt to be sold off to the husband who forgot his wife's birthday?

To be called 'beautiful', only to be left rotting away?
To sit beside a bed of 'beautiful' red roses, who think they'll be safe forever. To know they'll turn into you, you who has moulded into dirt.

These eyes fall on you now,
   they feel guilt,
      they feel remorse,
(they feel happy?)
          they feel like a murderer.

They run to drench you with water.

                           The poor white tulips,
                                              and the poor pink roses
                     will you be fixed from this phase of dirt?
Here is to those bouquets of flowers the lucky ones received.
Perhaps, you were lucky,
perhaps the flowers were not.

PS. I've written a poem after a year so it's definitely not my best work, not even close. Perhaps as I continue, it may get better?
Zenoche Apr 26
A garden filled with thorns,
Yet a rose, a special rose that has grown.
It stands above the rest,
Even in this wonderful flower bed.
She is the only rose that has no thorns,
A beautiful stem, clear, easily sown
Only beauty it has shown.

She was picked,
No bleeding, no *****
Carried upon with a gentle hand.
She was brought onto some distant lands,
Upon the paved path, oh what have they seen;
The sun is setting warmth and danger we feel.

The moon, not yet to arrive
Along the bushes we hide.
While seeking for the light,
The atmosphere cared so bright
A great sightseeing for the fireflies.

As we stare upon the vast sky,
They dance with colors as they fly
Smile upon your face will be my warmth of unforgettable
On how this cold night transverse beyond something loveable.

We have slept on the soft touch of the grass,
"Oh! few petals on this lass",
The sun shone brighter
As we get up, the journey wasn't over.

Across the lands,
Beyond this pass
We have encountered some wild packs.

They seem wild and tensed,
A few caress you have lent

They weren't ferocious nor tenacious
They looked so adorable and precious.
A wolf became a friend,
Where your heart began to mend

He followed your tracks,
He lead off to a good path.
He cared for you on how much you cared for him,
Never his eyes became too dim

We may not reach the end,
We have walked as we can.
Made possibilities and room for chances,
Chances that will give you a good ending.
But as soon we have stepped there is a better leading
The journey along the way, ain't it
Easy and susceptible?
We may find answers what is desirable.

You have been a rose, a beautiful rose I have ever met.
Your every petal is a special one to be kept.
I have made this for a special someone, I don't usually make romantic/optimistic poems. I am leaning more onto my head. That is why this poem is one of my special treasure.
StormriderIX Apr 21
Idle days thinking...

All the time we
Make mistakes.

Time heals us.
Is it true?
Roses have thorns.
Evidentially the same applies to time.
Doesn't it?
I'm tired.
julius Apr 21
504
[i mean....
do i.
deserve to be treated like this?]

this.
this pain
this crying screaming
flapping my hands and hitting
hitting myself my own cheeks stinging

why is it me
why am i the tragic martyr
who is pierced by fallen cupid's arrows

when all you know
is hurting the hurting becomes something
that means love and home and people you know
and i know hearts don't break they shatter
JesseK Apr 19
If not death what could
spring roses from your
palm, if not my
departure what could
lift your eyes from
screen to mine.
If not change what could
erode at this Jericho of a friendship.
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