Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Those twin galaxies of yours
Beckoned on my sister oceans'shores.
I swam away, I heard the lore,
'A furtive glance will ask for more.'

I hid beneath these bitter waters
heaven graciously showers,
And sank to their esoteric depth-
My treasured detaching step.

But these shrouds are latent webs,
Impalpable yet enthralling herbs,
That compelled those galaxies
Towards my oceans'caged reveries.

Astral lights came flowing
On my secret crevices - cosmic cunning.
On faint surrender, oceans reflected
Those lights thought connected.

But you feared degrees unknown,
Ceased the sailing, you will never own-
They you thought mastered the song of lorelei,
The depths you will die.

Was it that shed leering glimmer
From distant galaxies hover
Around the interval that mist covers
And stirring these waters?

My immensity is foreboding,
Your vastness is deceiving.
Would our core surface, if in mist
You linger and I in abyss?

You intoxicate me with cosmic light nothing can sober,
But refuse to drink from my oceans' water.
Your galaxies shine on infinity
But are not my property.

You are locked on a cache, no one could immerse,
Owned by some private universe.
The lore of your galaxies, a blurred maze,
An immortal quest to my gaze.
One of the poems I made for someone August 7, 2003
Edited version February 2, 2011.
Wyatt Jun 2016
I wonder when I'm gazing at distant galaxies
if there's anyone else out there like me
looking at those same galaxies?
I wonder how they think
when they stare at the sky,
I wonder if they're even outside at all?
I feel like these stars in the sky would be more special
if someone else were witnessing them with me,
because all I ever think about when I see them
is how cool it would be if I
could point them out to someone.
Isn't it so weird?
I'm staring at the unknown from this world,
looking at the worlds around me
and they aren't even special enough
because I still need a soul near me
to find any worth in it.
Isn't it so weird?

I wonder when I'm gazing at distant galaxies
if there's anyone else out there like me
looking at those same galaxies?
I wonder how they think
when they stare at the sky,
I wonder if they're even outside at all?
They could be sleeping like normal people do
while I'm wide awake thinking about what other people do.
Am I authentic enough
to be caught in your gaze?
Could you look at me for a little bit
like you do at those stars?
Eyes filled with wonder and admiration
for all that's out there.
Could I for just a moment
be a distant galaxy?
Am I authentic enough to be caught in your gaze?
Olivia L Apr 2015
She has galaxies in her eyes
Her hope could fill oceans, and still have more to spare
When she opens her mouth, birds stop to listen
And rain reverently relents in its pounding.

She has galaxies in her eyes
Her laughter is infectious, a disease you want to catch.
And when she’s sad, you don't know what to do
It’s a shock, because she’s always grinning

She has joy at her fingertips
Her imagination fills libraries
When she sleeps, her dreams manifest themselves
Becoming wonderful stories that you wish to live out

She has joy at her fingertips
A bright aura follows her like a kitten,
And wraps itself around everyone she touches

She has joy at her fingertips
And galaxies in her eyes
And everywhere she goes, you smile.
I wrote this poem for a slam poetry competition in my high school. It was my second poem for the competition, so I never actually performed it
Mike lowe Feb 2015
There were galaxies in her eyes.

I was never afraid of heights but the "goodbyes".

Every night was a different lie.

I watched as black holes swirled into her eyes

The love went into the stars

The galaxies were no longer ours

I explored them so carefully

When you left, you took the oxygen with you

Someday i want to look at the stars the same

But all i can think of is your name...
Jessica Evans Nov 2014
I want someone who sees my freckles as galaxies
And my scars as stories.
Who tells me my eyes are beautiful
And that my crooked teeth are charming.
I need someone who makes me feel as happy
As I feel when I write poetry.
Who makes me realize that I don’t need a lover,
But sometimes it’s okay to want one.
Then I realize as I trace the freckles on my arm,
That I already see them as galaxies.
And I know the stories behind my scars.
My eyes are my favorite feature
And **** my crooked teeth are awesome.
I write poetry and it makes me happy,
So why do I want a person to share that with?
I have everything here,
I love myself more than anyone could ever love me.
I found this in my old notes and cried a little
Timothy Stout Dec 2014
When we look into each other's eyes
You say  the constellations are in mine
If so, I gaze upon the galaxies in thine.
Argentina Rose Oct 2014
You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.
Kevin Jul 2014
your eyes contain galaxies,
which explains why i get lost in them
every time i look at you.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
A flower that smells of pure bliss keeps an ear to the ground
It's a serene one sitting beneath the stars down on earth
The moon, far, far, seven seas away, loves to drop into her lap.

The Bay of Bengal billows, music has gotten beneath the skin.
The leaves furl out off the deep wood with the birds
singing out to the top of the trees, rhyming with the leafy dance.
Heavensent, that was in one sanguine day in the spring.
The Mother’s Language Movement in 1952 sprouted like this
on the eighth of native Falgun month—oh magic did it unleash!

On that day our beloved brothers were shot dead
They could swallow the bullets with smiles but won’t give up
demanding the official status for the Bangla mother tongue.
Angels wrapped round the martyrs amid lamenting mothers
Laid them on Falgun’s perfumed ground bleeding corpses
Seas of roses bloomed and blew them out red, red kisses!

They are gone not the stone wall of consciousness they raised
Ah, at the sprout of the spring what were they echoing?
Ingrained deep in the soil the pre-designing voice in the planning?
Who can tell? The world gels on February 21 in celebrating!

The angels then snapped up our martyrs’ souls off the land,
placed them on a piece of Heaven where they can hear the jingle.
Down on earth, a nation springs up, has gotten its wake up call!
Stepping on the sweetening arc of the mother tongue melody
the stone turns a flower, all in a butterfly moment soaring to victory.
Thanks to the movement - Bangladesh itself later comes to be!

The sun comes down to the rose painting on the land
In the heavenly Falgun hues it nibbles some wild summer dreams.
“Serene songs of earth stirring the water,” like it comes into play,
rowing the cloud bubbles singing in southern breeze.
Ah, a walk on the sun-kissed kaleidoscope land is a pure bliss.  
Every blossom spray of the wind is soothing sweet
Hop on and play straight to the ruby heart, as if it's a flute.

Mother tongue means speak free, fearless, in full streaming.
Speak the heart to the world without the fear of losing the cloud
that will listen, bouncing back on the brink of the sky river.
Then what did one say, hear, or was awed by in the blooming Falgun?
Could it have been the spring humming in her native lingua
or King David singing in mother tongue by babbling brooks
what in any other language, even with a silver tongue, isn’t possible?

Allah has listened to our martyrs’ crying mothers and fathers
The martyrs’ souls whisk through the galaxies and starry fair.

Soar high over the clouds, take the rainbow's *** of gold away,
Like a hue turns 360-degree in the colourwheel bask into the colour.
Still, dip the toes in Bangla mother’s soil salted with perfumed art
Like Himalayan water swirling down melting deeper deep down
This magicland is polished for everyone be it you, a fairy, a star
or off the ploughed-out barrow a walked out wonder!

A pristine voice duo’s voiceprint gleans to the spring in muse,
Pops in a beauteous scurry and speaks in the mother tongue!
Hidden within the earthy depth, only emerges with time,
only dances in tangent, that day slipped out with the butterflies.
And finally the blue nymphs take the plunge drop down the sky  
That day the mother’s voice triumphed, whose is the most original!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Dallas Hogue Mar 2015
When you talk to people,
Look them in the eyes.

You don't know how many galaxies lie in those things
Ellyn k Thaiden Apr 2014
You shut your eye lids and are transported into a different world, like flipping a switch, pulling a lever. Hours will pass by in my realm, but to you, galaxies swarm behind closed windows. To you, it will be moments before you awake again, if your slumber is dreamless.

If you dream I hope you dream of a world far away from here, but I hope you bring me along. And we can dance on the rings of Saturn, fly through Jupiter's core, and drink the sweet nectar of the Milky Way. Because when I am with you I hold my universe in my arms. I might never explore all of you, for you are vast, deep, complex. But I hope I can do more than scrap the surface. I hope I can dive into you and get lost in the Andromeda galaxy and loop around Orion's belt. I hope I can become so tangled that I cannot tell where you start and I begin unless I pay close attention. But I have ADD so expect me to wander.

Baby, while you sleep and galaxies pass behind your eyes I hope I can watch and fall into time with the rise and fall of your lungs and the drum of your heart. I hope we synchronize into our own awkward rhythmic beat like none other. To fall asleep to the music of your snores, subtle whispers that leak from your mouth, and the twitches your body will make life sublime.

While you are in a different world I will be right here, awaiting for your return to Earth.
K Balachandran Oct 2014
The smile of the white bloom, in my crown
its fragrance spreads across galaxies of neurons,
none can fully imagine the scene, I haven't seen
it's stellar design baffles humans, resists exploration.

On single file pass days and nights, indefatigable
rainbows are made and unmade, making clouds
blush and hoping for  bridges across them,
why, even the universe dances to the tunes we play

Ever  at ease, I walk silently past the blue mountains,
of remembrance, mostly love created, a miracle!
At times a poet, a scientist,a  cosmologist,or a mystic in solitude
finds the need to "stand and stare"wonder, speaks in metaphors.

Looking st the fireworks sky manages, I hallucinate,
an astronaut I become, who knows nothing about time
one wished to live in timelessness for ever and when,
that dream comes true, loses within and be nothingness.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
The freckles scattered across your skin
Are like the stars upon the sky
Each one is special, unique
Different but still dazzling

There are too many to count
But you will try anyway
Getting mixed up somewhere
Between the moon and the milky way

They are all so beautiful
And are like no other
So don't try to cover them up
Or hide them from the world

*You never know,
One of those stars might be a galaxies
Ever since I was little I really hated all my freckles and it wasn't until recently that I started to accept them as part of who I am.
blue mercury Oct 2016
i was drowning in your galaxies of blue.
blue so pale- like your    e   y   e  s
when i swore i could feel them on me but
you weren't there.
i was drowning in your galaxies
in which the stars would shine
shine bright / bright light / bright white light / pale bright white light-
not like printer paper in the sun
more like the pigment of your skin
in the moonlight.

i didn't mind. drowning didn't seem
so bad.
because even though i felt awful and sad, i
also felt loved,
and that was so very pretty to me
as a poet. as a lonely star amidst

you almost said the "l" word
a total of (probably) seven times in the five
long-short months that
we were almost lovers.
i actually said the "l" word
a total of five times.
twice as a half joke, hoping you'd pick up
where i slacked in clarity but never
in sincerity
and three times (thrice) in my goodbye
in which i beheld these self-evident truths:

that the almost (always almost) meant
that we could never be lovers
and i thought that i'd prefer us to be nothing to each
other but maybe friends.

(maybe, maybe, maybes make me want to wish on stars
but not the ones in your eyes)

and although time flies
i'm still somehow drowning in your galaxies
of blue.

and i wonder if its killing me
as your stars blink
and i'm gone
when they open their eyes.
oh man. that was long but my heart needed it to be written. might be spoken word if someday i can read it aloud without bursting into tears.
m i a Feb 2016
i see the galaxies in your eyes,
i see the lies you hide inside,
i see the galaxies in your eyes,
i see that there's no room for a girl like me, to explore the worlds & stars, within your mind. oh how i wish i can be apart of your lovely heart.

*sadly i'm not, but as long as i can gaze at you from afar- its fine.
dedicated; to the lovely people who go unoticed by their crushes. <3
Chloe Elizabeth May 2014
I was broken
I needed fixing
and I was wrong
to think you could
glue me back together

You accepted me
when I couldn't even look at myself
in the mirror
and that feeling rushed through my veins
like heroine

You were another one
of my many secrets,
I kept you behind my back

Eventually, I realized schemes
and lies wouldn't put out my bonfire
because it was only getting bigger

Three words...

Three words was all it took
and I was burning
But I didn't want to drag you down
with me so I ran

Then you walked away
You told me you walked away
because you didn't want me
to see you cry
but the look on your face
was painful enough

I can still see it
in the galaxies
beneath my eyelids

That's the only place you exist anymore

By Chloe Elizabeth
P.S. You're not a secret anymore.
There are galaxies in your eyes.
On sleepless nights, I want to stare
Into the constellations in your iris,
And watch as the galaxies spin endlessly
With every breath, every smile, every heartbeat.
I can see, in your eyes
Every ocean, every sea, every body of water.
When you’re calm, they’re lazy rivers,
Gently flowing along.
But as you become passionate, the rivers
Turn into seas, the waves rocking me.

I wouldn’t mind being in space alone
Or being lost at sea,
If it meant I had a little part of you with me.
Äŧül Jun 2016
My new device Samsung Galaxy A7 (6),
I bought it off my own money guys,
And I am so pleased with myself.

It has helped distract me finally,
The breakup will be forgotten now,
Her false love vanished 7 Galaxies away.
Verdict and review: Samsung Galaxy A7 (6) - the 2016 version is the best phone at its price.
Sometimes you need to move on unwillingly.

My HP Poem #1086
©Atul Kaushal
Mikaila Nov 2014
I see galaxies in your eyes.
When I look at you and truly see you
I see something so vast, so alive
So lonely,
So, so beautiful.
I feel the cold rush of sighs the stars can't voice
And the slow burn of their hearts,
The hidden passions that will someday devour them-
Their electric joy to exist
And their wise grief, that someday they will sputter out.
I feel the confusion of a deity too large for itself, full of echoing spaces and cavernous darkness
So much space inside that she thinks she's small.
So much blinding loveliness that she sees nothing.

I see galaxies in your eyes.
I named the moon after you, and every star, breathing your name in and out until I finally realized that the whole sky
Was yours
And everything beyond it.
And everything beneath it.
And me,
Little me- what am I next to the sun?
Next to the paths of glittering diamonds that sing the song of your soul to the void and make it something?
There is no heaven or hell, my love, there is
Only you
And you are more than both.
You hold the universe in your fingers,
You speak and gravity shifts,
You dream and worlds become,
You sigh and stars rain down
To pierce the darkness.
You cradle the earth in your arms
And if you ever let go, this world will freeze
Still as a rose
Trapped in a moment of longing forever.
Don't let go.
You pull the tides
You sway the trees
You sing the moon
You raise the sun
You sigh the rain
Your heartbeat
Holds the earth together.
I see
Galaxies in your eyes.
Don't let go. This place is only beautiful
Because you are here to live in it.
I laid on a dune, I looked at the sky.
And saw the clouds passing by.

The Moon was peeping through the clouds.
To me it seemed so fake; like a plastic in a vase !

But if I had a mind,
I could write about Pluto, Jupiter and Mars.

I could folio on a rainbow from Venus,
and have breakfast with stars.

Or I could spin the galaxies,
And play pinball with them.

But, I felt so helpless and small;
'Immense', that is what I could say in all !
My moon drips silver;
Gliding from its craters, flown
Across galaxies

Alien beings
Stare at its state; leaking a
Peak at what it is

But the moon's just the
Moon to us; nothing more than
A dab to the sky

How I wonder the
Way y'all see it tonight; can
You find the beauty?*

~Or is it just the moon?~
I feel sometimes I underappreciated things I never really seem to think are so incredible...
All feedback is welcome :)
ryn Jan 2015
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...
Dedicated to all of you...

If you're reading this...
This is for you...
Divinus Qualia Jul 2015
Others promised
to fill your eyes
with stars. Only stars.
But I will populate
your mind with galaxies,
complete the space
with swirling clouds
of asteroids and
black holes to swallow
your sadness. After all,
stars are obviously bright
and beautiful, but alone.
I will help to discover
somewhere within yourself
the need to create
constellations of us,
where our myths
and morals intertwine.
You and I and our
moments, syzygy.
Gravity only exists,
so we can fall together
but still weightless
to see that our mass
doesn’t affect our matter.
How stars collapse
under their own weight,
fading out, is so unlike
the way we expand
amongst the cosmos,
heavenly bodies of ours
joining the rest in the halo,
interstellar where I will
cascade over you, a pulsar
radiating waves of energy.
These shockwaves form
a singularity of us,
with no time or direction
but we know what we are;
a meteor shower for those
still simply Earth bound.
Gazing into the sun, they
promised stars, blinded.
Blinding, our explosion
of formation from nothing.
Let there be planets
where beings flourish
and evolve, and I will
gift you their moons,
the craters filled with
dust of my words hidden
where no winds can
ever disturb them.
They promised you
stars, so you can become
a satellite and orbit
and worship their light.
I will give myself,
a supernova, and you
will learn to craft galaxies
so I can explore them
within you, and revel at
the beauty of the unknown.
Our universe won’t fit
in their telescopes.

**V. K.
Gladys P Sep 2014
Into the night, hundreds of galaxies sparkle,
Secretly engaging, like a child's game of hide-n-seek,
Surrounded by soft puffs of snow,
In the warmth of the summer breeze.

And unfurl,
Into the tropical seas,
As waves mildly splash,
Upon a bed of sand, creating a feeling of peace.

When light whispers,
Vanish upon native shores,
And relive in my heart,
Forever and ever more....
Sandoval Jul 2016
To have found you within a million galaxies was already magical enough.

god, i forgot how much i loved you until i was with you again. until i felt your fingers drawing me closer to you, your breath on my lips, hot on my pale ghost skin, your voice whispering words in the language you made just for us to understand. there are galaxies hidden in the space behind your ribs, i can feel them with each inhale you exhale, taste them in the back of your throat. your thumb traces circles across my hand, like rings around saturn, and you know i revolve around you like that too. you are planet earth and i am the moon, you are beautiful and i will only ever shine for you.
sunday 23rd november '14 ~ i love you i love you i love you ~ 12.27am ~ 'there she goes' by the la's
Shofi Ahmed Dec 2017
Every star across the seven skies
wishes to kiss it is a gold dust.

Not to mention the Moon in the centre
waning and waxing in the open and in secret
keeps unleashing longing to rub
this non-sublunary piece on its forehead.

She knows only then the rough seas beneath
her will calm down in the soft raining moonlight
rubbing off such a lucky blossomed forehead.

Oh, if only scarcely they could ever see it
the galaxies since their inceptions longing for it.
The bliss of the eyes tucked away from the scene
Paradise lies beneath the mother’s feet!

The mother is fast is for all and is down to earth
She, the mother Fathima descended down
from up above the heaven that pivotal frontier
only all the prophets’ Prophet has seen.
Then was no Adam nor Eve or Jibreel!

Paradise finds its core with its resonant lore
in the shadow of the original feminine Fathima
the immortal hotspot the original matter explored.
Paradise lived and breathe beneath her
but she touched down at the heart of the earth
without stepping or touching on paradise
only to give away her stake to others!
No land she would take on her way back indeed
Not in her name, know where Fathima’s grave is?
When people visit Islamic holy city Medina they look for the grave of the holy lady Fathima. It has been the tradition since her death some fourteen hundred years ago. There are two graves where she is buried but which one is her is still unknown It's been said that she preferred her grave to remain unidentified.
Caitlyn Dee Dec 2013
i've been told
that the stars
and the galaxies
are made up of
i've been told
that we
are made up of
the stars
and the galaxies
and i've been told
that when we die
we go back into
the universe
then it hit me
and it all made sense
you said you were going away
you said i wouldn't see you again
for a very long time
and you said
that you were going back into the universe
then it hit me
when i found you
lying on the floor
with the stars
and the galaxies
forced out into a puddle around you
*and it all made sense
Alicia Jul 2014
some nights you will feel
like there are a thousand galaxies
exploding in every inch of you
and you are burning too bright
to ever be looked at directly,
and some nights you will feel
impossibly small, like your
whole body could slip through
the spaced between atoms and
never reappear in this world again,
and some nights you will feel
like a paper doll, carefully crafted
and easily blown away, fragile,
too delicate to ever be touched,
and some nights you will feel
like each cell in your body is
made of the strength that holds
the whole planet together,
and that is okay because you are
made of stardust and miniscule
atoms and breakable bones
and the building blocks of
everything in the universe,
and you are too alive to never
feel anything more than human
Miranda Lopez Dec 2013
I have unexplored galaxies
constantly expanding inside myself.
You may have seen a single sector
of my universe, but you will never
be able to visit all of the vast
space that is orbiting within me.
SøułSurvivør Dec 2015

shivering stars with horn
moon trumpeting like
mystic swan sailing
the scintillating
scintillating the
sailing swan mystic
like trumpeting moon
horn with stars shivering

(C) 12/11/2015
Dedicated to Jeffard Stier... I so much appreciate your support of my poetry! Happy Thanksgiving!
md-writer Jul 2015
when galaxies surround
and gravity's unbound

and I'm floating in the midst
holding tightly to your wrist

and there is wonder in my eyes
because your face has told no lies

I hold you close so I can feel
if your heartbeat's even real

and press my lips against your cheek
because my heart is growing weak

against the love-tide rising
your presence prizing

above all else
olivia larson Aug 2015
you told me you could see lifetimes in my eyes
you told me my fingers painted galaxies on your skin
you told me we would be okay
so now what am i supposed to believe?
the moon weeps for us
the stars look down in sorrow
they have lost their shine
the same ones we danced beneath
now mourn our demise
the same ones we laughed up to
and told secrets to
and whispered cotton candy promises to
now do not believe in love.
the galaxies i once painted on your skin
call us liars
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
It’s a shame to me,

to witness what’s become of the culture that raised me.

We’re sold on what was preached as good advice.

“Shoot for the moon because even If you miss, you’ll be amongst the stars.”

But see I feel that statement could use some clarification.

Our eyes glisten from the brightness of the so ever infinite beauty,

but what if I told you that beauty was the cause of my pain?

What if I told you that the real moon's right here on planet earth?

There’s 7 billion galaxies right in front of us, going unseen.

What If I told you the term “Shoot for the moon”,

really meant shoot for someone’s heart,

not the one that reigns above us from afar?

There’s the most beautiful galaxy,

nestled beneath the skin of someone

who’s so lost they don’t sleep.

The stars within are cloaked

by the clouds of their depression, Also insecurities.

Waiting to be the butterflies that dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat,

waiting to be your favorite twinkle in her eyes.

Waiting to show you a new color you notice when she smiles and,

that will be your new favorite color.

So If we’ve lost sight of the galaxies within our life,

all because they weren’t visable as hope in the dark night sky.

How long until we lose sight to those too?
alexis Mar 2015
Representative of the Ocean;
The under side of galaxies -
depths that man will never come to know,
But will foolishly never cease to search to for.
The tips of waves
Caressing the shore line to meet man once again,
Though it draws its feeble hand back often.
The color blue is
The moment after grieving,
The emptying of great seas.
Temporary peace.
idk what this is
sempiternal Apr 2014
Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

— The End —