So the flower grew
Every year it turns blue
On the 7th month was yellow
For the remains, black, mellow
See thy stem so thick
Yet 'twas the one nobody picked
See thy petals freckled, slight pink
From vanishing 'twas on the brink
Travelled from this so-called paradise
To a land frozen, full of ice
Held on its roots to a desert
Now it wished a rebirth
In front of the tree who were hand in hand
Said "I want to be a rose" utterly grand
With leaves of a hair swooshing, one spoke
"You're the verdin who slept when volcanoes woke"
YOU ARE READING
Hurled Thoughts
PoetryWe hurl thoughts like we breathe every gust of wind... To the words never spoken. To the thoughts I have forgotten.
