homegrown and beautiful
wanderer through the night
her lack of sunlight
pedals become dull
creatures of disturbance
they want to eat
the beauty for their service
homegrown and beautiful
never seen the rain
beauty never knew
the wonders of drugs
creatures promised her fun
homegrown and wilting
beauty damaged
wonder the night

When petals of a wilting rose are plucked
Do not be surprised when all that remains
Are thorns

underneath the gloomy morning dew
i would sit and dream of you
the bleeding hearts
would bloom and dance,
in remembrance of our wilting romance.

even wilted roses have thorns

Watching sadly as our once beautiful love dies slowly like the flower with it's petals so weak as they fall to the ground. Knowing within the depths of your heart you can't save it or bring it back to life. All that's left to do is pick up the petals like the pieces of your heart and and hope there's a live seed left to replant and grow again one day.
If you leave the petals to soak up the moisture on the ground it's surely to mold the seed, which makes it so much harder to grow another flower from a molded seed. My heart left open to be broken over and over gives it no time to heal, for if it should ever love again., It must get away from the person that's breaking it  before it to becomes the molded petal laying on the moistened ground left to mold away.
©kimmied1105

I always wanted to be a writer.
I wanted to be able to take my thoughts and put them In words, take the Spirographs that are my thoughts and follow the constantly over lapping lines, but it’s so confusing
So messy.
You see I wanted to be a writer,
but every good writer has had a trauma, some sort of thing they went though, I thought I needed that to be a good writer,
In fact I wanted a darken past.
I wanted to be a wilted willow in sunflowers.
You see I asked for it.
You see I always wanted to be a writer,
I basically asked for it.