She sat, skirt
draped over knees.
Nestled in cup hands
was a single flower,
thorn cuts marked skin.
Eyes drifted over the once
vibrant red flower.
Now, dead man gray
pooled in the middle and
red traced the petal edges.
The flower dropped
on gray stained grass.
The world shift and swirled.
She fell.
Grass tickled
her noise as
eyes were kept on
the flower.
In a moment,
red fought back
and took its rightful place
within the center of the flower
A drop of color fell to
the grass, it spread
like spilled water.
It took two years
and the world finally
held color again.
A smile fluttered as
eyes closed for the last time.
Her body laid limp surrounded
by poisonous gray flowers.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PoesiaThe 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.
