Do the flowers mourn when one is picked?
I know that question is kinda morbid and sick.
But I’ve always wondered if they somehow know,
Like for weddings and birthdays that it’s their time to go?

Do they feel sorry for lovestruck dames,
That pull off petals whilst saying their crushes’ names,
That pulled the last petal on “He loves me not”?
Do they feel bad that she’s distraught?

Do they compete on who’s the prettiest?
Each person has an opinion of which flower is the best,
Of their looks are they actually aware,
Do flowers even care?

the cold air
can be seen
every time
we take a breath

my tears sting
as they race
down my cheeks
to soak into my scarf

my hand has
gone numb
and no longer had
yours to hold

Christmas music plays
jingling merrily
as my heart
shatters to the beat.

the words
dancing off your lips
hanging in the air
as if they were mistletoe

”i’m sorry”
i watch as you turn your back
and walk away
for the last time.

Relocated when
I
Was
Eight,
Gran picked me up
Outside
The school gate

This would be the last time,
For a
Long time,
To be present here,
My old school

Somewhere in my mind
It got locked away,
The places
Where we
Used to
Play

Now the years have passed,
Returning to
My old school
At
Last

It looks exactly the same,
Except someone's shrunk it!
My eyes, they shut,
Am I in
Lilliput?

Song- Where Do the Children Play? Cat Stevens.