It's like I'm cursed to have forever
A hopeless pursuit in love's endeavor.
Some would advise me only to wait
But there is something also that I hate.
All those who are perfect for me it seems
Are older, taken, or lost in daydreams.
They're perfect for me, everything I need,
Yet destined to deny me, an unwatered seed.
The years are wrong. I've been misplaced.
These cold roses clutter. I am encased.
A soul made for the flower of the sun,
Trapped by all, save for the one.
The sun is all I need, 'tis true,
But in a field of red turned blue
I long for the stalk that reflects the light,
A gentle yellow would feel so right.
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Random Poetry
PoetryCollection of personal poems. Ranges from themes of anxiety to shame to hope to anything really.
