I pledged to be no dreamer
And here I am, wishing on weeds
I close my eyes
I cross my fingers
I spread their seeds
Identical wishes enchanting these barren grasslands
Squashed by the palms of my own two hands
Stems dyed blood-red by my conscience
Stained and ruining in the loss of innocence
To distance myself from the future held in the cards facing down
Silence is the safest sound
Watching it all blow away
It wasn't meant to be today
Dandelions are yesterday's lies
God I wish I were more wise
Spring blows into winter
The world is painted silver
My seeds didn't grow
Dreams buried in snow
Dying in sorrow
"Maybe tomorrow"
I still wish
I pray on a chance
I dance, around the obvious
I cry, like I'm oblivious
Oblivion's the spark I grieve
The signal I failed to recieve
Because life can be a neverending cold
Too frozen to speak, so I sold
I sold myself to a flower
Not a flower, but a weed
I burned the page I didn't want to read
But crumbling down, is an unsafe sound
Temporary peace is never apeased
The frown carved in my face would never be pleased
You're a wisteria tree
I am evergreen
Here's our eulogy
End of scene
Untruly born in 2022
But truly dead by 2023
YOU ARE READING
ONE MORE TIME
PoesíaA follow-up to my last poetry collection, One More Time follows feelings of fluctuating temporary peece and recurring sorrows, caused by outside factors, or uncontrollable feelings from within.
