Love is fresh like a rose, in a misty morning
Only if you can keep it pure
And don't leave it to die for too long
If you forget about it love dies
And withers it's not beautiful anymore
When love dies you have nothing left
To admire and follow
Love is like a rose
It can either wither and live in
A heartbeat if you let it
(Thx u within_my_mind for giving me an idea to write about)
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
