That red Rose you once gave me,
It's smell sing lingers around,
Crumpled in the book where I kept our love,
It dies, but makes no sound.
It stays silent, like I did the day you left.
Watched you blur away in the mist.
In my hand were the prickles of the Rose,
And in my mind was the memories missed.
The ink of our love has gone dull,
The red of the Rose gone pink.
The memories though, theyre stuck.
I don't want them, but they won't sink.
I never memorized the love letters,
But I can't seem to forget them.
I look now for someone better,
But I can't seem to find them.
- mondayitis
YOU ARE READING
her eyes looked dead
شِعرa collection of poems, rants, and excerpts from books I'll never write. the poems usually rhyme. all by yours truly, of course. please don't steal em lol bc if i find out...you won't see the next day ;) what are they about? idek lol mostly heartbr...
