Blood is red roses to.
Violets are blue so are your
eyes,an ocean blue.
Darkened soul of many more.
To your grave you'll find one more.
The bones in the coffins coming to life.
The skeletons bruising the soil at night.
Take my rose i tell you now.
Take it I say.
I'm here to stay.
Yet only in my darkest days an elegant rose made its way.
To the heart of many more.
I throw dead roses to the floor.
YOU ARE READING
|°Simply Structure°|
PoetryPoetry has always completely held me together. It's kind like how you breathe oxygen. It's something I have to do. Poetry is something like oxygen to me. Without it I wouldn't survive. ~ remember love is a crime and I'll do the time for loving what'...
