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Luna Wrenn Sep 2019
maybe it will never change

maybe we will still be flowers on the side of the road

still no place to call home

but still flowing in our veins is the wildness and adventure that

we’ve always known to be

we would be gleaming with vivd colors.

still trying to survive


the droughts
the rains
the storms
the heat
the wind
the bitter cold

when winter comes along, and someone doesn’t stop to pick you next and we will be left

to wilt

forgotten

something once so beautiful and fragile

now lifeless and limp.

r. Powell
Anastasia Jun 2019
Raindrops, water plops, let’s go see the ocean.
Let’s go skip a stone 14 and 11. Let’s go find a way so we could go to heaven.
Raindrops, falling on my face.
Raindrops mixing with my tears.
Tears falling into the water well.
Rose gardens, little girls picking them carefully.
But the rain is falling, and the girls are crying and the roses are wilting.
The wind is crying and I am crying and the well is crying and the roses are crying.
Raindrops, water plops, let’s go see the ocean.
Let’s go skip a stone, 14 and 11
another old poem that i like
Sharmila Juliet Apr 2019
Amidst the sorrow of wilting petals,
Your spreading aroma
Make my heart feel better.
And, says everything will be alright
With the smile.
two roses-
growing in the same bush-
surviving off the same soil-
growing into something beautiful-
becoming something greater-
growing as one

the sun-
shining bright upon them-
encouraging their growth-
lighting up their future-
calming their senses-
kindling the passionate affair-
moving them closer together-
more intimate and dear

the sun neglects its obligation to one of the roses-
refusing a light source for the bloom-
leaving it wilted and begging for nutrients-
brown and fragile-
dying as the sun proceeds to rise over the other rose

the second rose continues growing along with the sun-
in spite of the downfall of the latter-
almost mocking the lesser decaying bloom-
because it has a source of light encouraging its growth-
safe and sound-
not giving any pity to the rotting flower beside it-
soaking up its own source of light-
and not sharing any rays with the decaying blossom-
rendering it useless and unwanted

the selfishness of the one rose-
refusing to share its sunshine with the latter-
results in solely one rose-
instead of two roses
stop taking my light, i want to grow, too
I remember the sunset,
the first night we spent together.
He told me he loved me,
held my hand and swore his life to me.
Made promises that he
couldn't keep.


I used her for fertilizer
in my garden.
Made her believe she was special.
I stole the light from her eyes,
and left her in the dark --
without day.
Red

When he left for good that night,
I cried myself to sleep
and woke up without him.
In his place,
tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.


I rid of her,
limb for limb,
tore her in two and stole a piece of her...
all to myself.
Her insides bled
from their newly bloomed.
I'm trying my hand at a poetry chapbook called "Wilted". Each poem will go off of a color in the girl's perspective and then the next one will have a picture of a wilting flower the match the color (i.e the boys perspective). This is just one of many parts.
for so long, i have been watering my own petals
aiding in my own growth
soaking my roots with positivity and love
growing to my fullest potential

and then you came along
and i thought you would continue to help me grow
but you put me into a drought
leaving me thirsty and gasping for air

now because of you
my petals are wilting away
from your harsh abandonment and apathy
and my soul will now rot
because of this terrible lonely drought
hindering my growth
and leaving me utterly and completely helpless and alone
how can i grow when you are pulling me back
Petrichor Dec 2018
Yes.

It has hit me
like a bullet in my chest
that my only friends
were the demons in my head
and
the loneliness in my bed.

I am wilting
and
there is no escape.
You promised you'd help me
bloom
but you've left me to drown in gloom.

You don't really wanna know if there is something wrong with me.
You're only asking because
you can see
my carefully contrived mask melt away.

You want to pull each of my strings
and play harmony with them
do you realize
this is my heart you're throwing away?

You ask only
to bring music to your ears again.
You can't help anymore.
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