Flowers can crumple as they climb up my throat,
One of these days, they might just make me choke,
As the flowers of love fill up my lungs,
My heart begins to race, I have no where to run,
All of this panic, only one thought in my head,
'You must confess soon or all that awaits you is death'
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This poem was also created for the topic "Things that crumple"
However this time, the crumpled object in question is flowers,
Somehow i was able to revolve this section of the project around hanahaki disease and how the flowers crumple in the victims lungs, I thought it was an interesting idea for the project atleast-
YOU ARE READING
Enanan's Poetry Journal ☆彡
PoetryHello there and welcome to a different style of story compared to my usual ones, called 'Enanan's Poetry Journal' Despite not really liking poetry as a subject, I find sometimes with certain topics in my mind my pen flows smoother and suddenly I ha...
