Dry petals of a flower
entrapped between the pages
of a worn out book;
Lost to it's essence;
Stolen from it's world;
Forced to live amidst the words unbeknownst to it.
No rhyme to weep,
No reason to bloom.
Sanctuary lost;
Freedom given up to amuse another.
Sunlight comes in glimpses
with despicable eyes that admire.
Once it lived with buzzing bees,
Now silence is all that's for company.
It lives with the painful knowledge
that it can never go back
for it is deformed
and can only fit in
between the sentences of it's purgatory.
YOU ARE READING
The Truths of a Liar
Poetry"She is sane, no matter how trapped she feels; if anything at least she is braver in pretense." All the poems I upload are written by me over the course of a few years (and still going). Highest Rank 1st April, 2018 - #61 (Not an April fool's joke �...
