A beautiful flower,
with the deadliest tendencies.
Mistaken for a beautifully tragic,
Instead of tragically beautiful.
Alluring,
A dark shade of purple,
Blooming in the sunlight,
Taking away in the night.
A curse set upon it,
Destined to be adored,
Yet put at a distance.
Always on the outside looking in,
Wishing to be just like any other flower,
A sunflower,
A lilac,
A bluebonnet.
The Nightshade will always be distained,
Not totally,
But enough to matter.
Only those who dare to risk it all,
Ever get close,
Fools.
That is the curse of the Nightshade.
Steven Krauss-Akins ©2015
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POEMS for everything
PoetryA collection of poems from emotions to ideas and everything in between.
