You were like a weathering flower,
one that could be a beautiful rose.
I was the riches water,
that money could buy.
I wanted to help you,
wanted to be the reason why you grew
to be the pettiest flower in the garden.
But no matter what I did,
you kept weathering,
Then one day, I realized why.
You were giving away my water,
to all the other plants,
they promised to do something in return.
Thorn bushes
made their way into your home,
pretending to be a rose just like you.
You fell for their trickery.
I refused to give you my water,
refused to be a pawn in their game
The flowers that you put your trust in
was nothing but thorns,
using you
and letting you die.
This was the home that you build,
it was build on nothing
but lies and deception.
You put your trust in the wrong people,
now look where it got you.
You are now dead
and I can't do anything
All because you have rejected
my kind, sweet, water.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PoetryThe elevator broke now death played with you all night. - Hell's Deal ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sometimes monsters are real, sometimes Hell is fictional, but both have impacted many lives. So, take seat with some coffee and enjoy this poetry collection.
