Someday someone will see flowers in me,
But they wouldn't know the thorns I've stepped on,
The wounds I've got that have carved holes in my soul,
They will only see flowers growing inside those dark holes,
They will see wild flowers, the golden sun rays embracing each petal in the unmade bed of flowers that have grown in my veins,
In that way all of us returns to nature at some point when nobody wants us,
Nature wins in all ways,
So when someone sees all the flowers that have grown on all the scars,
Would they still love the many roots tangled down under as well?
Would they cut them off or let them grow wildly on its own?
But the most important question would be, would I be aware of all the flowers I've grown? Or instead fret about the holes past lovers have dug?
As thieves they've stolen the only love I've buried,
When flowers grow, Daisies to Violets,
Will I still cry about the dug holes?
Will they rain over the flower bed,strengthening them for another bloom?
My future lover,
Love me, cherish me, for all that I am,
I'm sorry, if I would not see the flowers that have grown,
Even if I see the scars only,
I hope you would still love me for who I really am;
- Just Don't Give Up On Me // @windowless_words
YOU ARE READING
The Half-Burnt Boy
PoesiaFor all the prompts I find fascinating on this thing called the "World Wide Web," and random words I find interesting enough to add to this collection; I'll be crafting poems out of thin air like any magician would do 🪄 Copyright © 2021 by Aloka Wi...
