One of thousand roses in the lea,
begging you to see.
Small, unflourished yet
having feelings hard to set.
Soil, potting in the seed.
Watering me gently,
knowing roses break with ease.
Pruning stems the way he likes to see...
The attention you gave
or the touch that made me dazed,
or the eyes I glared in way too much
and lost the consciousness, I greatly clutched.
Gazing in eyes dimly,
shining in light grimly.
Glinting ring around his finger,
making me linger...
If I were to have hands and feet,
instead of dorns and leaves.
With my rosy lips...
Will he long it to be his...?
But if you touch me, it will hurt you....
My dorns will pierce you.
Is it selfish? I will let your hand bleed,
so I can be freed...
From my desires wrong,
if you touch me, will they be all gone?
Or you will make me wish you more,
even harder than before.
Can i give a man everything he longs for?
Long messy, tangled hair,
his red cheeks in flare.
My leaves holding him whole,
making him scream out his soul...
Is that what I feel, love? The one in poems, books?
Is that for what everyone looks?
Or are they words I fed,
unconsciously into my head?
Or do I want them to be just of boredom and affliction,
because I don't know if I can handle restriction.
Can a rose feel like that towards a man?
Is it wrong? Am I to blame?
YOU ARE READING
My Flowers After Rain
Poetry"My Flowers After Rain" is an evocative collection of love poems. Let yourself get immersed in the tender words of love, where emotions bloom like delicate flowers. With each poem, the reader is transported to a different landscape where the tapestr...
