you handed me a bouquet of flowers in the pouring rain,
just like all of those romantic movies,
claiming you'd love me infinitely and eternally,
and i stupidly believed you,
nor did i question the gift i was given,
turns out those flowers were fake,
nothing but cheap plastic,
mimicking that of your false pretences,
i was blind to your deception,
the words you spoke,
'i'll love you until the day i die',
so where are you now?
YOU ARE READING
Wildflowers
Poetry"men have a nerve to play with a woman's heart, to convince her she is not beautiful the second he doesn't get his way, to convince her she is nothing to him, whilst her eyes are flooded with potential, and his are deep and empty, void." A poetry co...
