Mortality, mortality,
Your beauty is brighter than the morning sun.
Like a flower in spring, you bloom.
Into this world you come, to live, to breath, to
die.
Your flower will grow and wilt, just as you allow.
Life to special to go on forever.
To sacred to go to soon.
Your petals hold dew, sweet to the taste.
Your center as yellow as the sun.
Dancing in the wild you are graceful,
untouchable, flawless.
And you are picked, pluck from your earthly bed,
and placed in a vase for all to see,
until you must return the earth that you were born from.
YOU ARE READING
My Thoughts
PoetryA collection of short stories and poems through the years. Just some random thoughts and ideas thrown in there.
