Lavishing lavenders,
Beautiful blues.
I don't need green gardeners,
To tame my fluorescent hues.
Prissy poppy,
Jolly jasmine,
I'm not of carbon copies,
Cause there are no petals as mine.
Humorous honey,
Laughing lily,
Sometimes, I might feel lonely,
But that's the price I pay for being me.
Indigenous irises,
Colorful carnations.
I will often have an existential crises,
And my fair share of imperfections.
Cause I am not a red, red, red rose,
But a trampled flower who arose.
Even after I've been stomped upon,
I still rise like the break of dawn.
.....just like a wildflower.
Author's note :
"Even after she was bent, twisted, broken, stomped and trampled upon, she still rises like an wildflower."
~ Secret Blackwood.
(I wrote the above poetry on my insta handles. So I thought I'd expand it and write it as one of my poems cause I really liked the flower theme. What do you think? Let me know! Thanks for coming this far and reading!)
Oh, by the way!
Be a wildflower, darling. ❤️
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The Girl In My Poems
Poetry"Poets hide pieces of themselves in their poems, and I hide...her." It is said that things felt inside a poet's heart comes out as a form of art, and I feel her. I feel her wildly. Like heartbreak, I feel her in my chest. Like acid on a wound, I fee...
