'Love for a daughter
is like a rose
each passing day
it grows and grows'*
but the roses have wilted
the soil gone dry
a mothers love is no more
and the child wants to die
*this is a fridge magnet on my fridge so for some reason I decided to use it in a poem.
YOU ARE READING
dark poems
Poetrythis seems like poetry and prose sometimes it's more than you'd suppose see, what my mind creates, goes but what that is, nobody knows
