Yellow roses
-
Laying in your crib,
Your innocence is all that it takes.
All that you rely on,
It's young you's biggest mistake.
Her favorite flower was always a rose;
and yours was yellow.
Moonlit night befell my young heart.
My soul called to you;
and those sweet moments where I'd lay in your room.
How they meant to me.
How they meant to me.
-
However, time wanders.
The skies, they begin to thunder.
So, may the story continue.
So, may the time move on.
-
So, yellow petals fell to the ground.
From your sweet nostalgic roses.
The way you smelt.
The way laying on your chest felt.
How I could hear that heartbeat.
How I miss that heartbeat;
and my yellow roses, how the petals fall.
My name, never again you'll call.
And the yellow roses, they grow again, how they grow again.
-
Sweet silence fills my heart, this time comes many times a year.
All I can do is shed soft, innocent tears.
Yearning for you to hear, appreciating every second of our years.
As I was young, I sat by and watch.
It's almost like the moment a rain drop drops,
And though in that moment I could do nothing.
In that moment I could do nothing.
Your yellow roses are now crumbled dry, how I'd never throw them out.
May they crumble in my hands, the remnants lighter then sand.
Oh how they crunch in my hand, how they crunch in my hand.
-
However, time wanders.
The skies, they begin to thunder.
So, may the story continue.
So, may the time move on.
-
So, yellow petals fell to the ground.
From your sweet nostalgic roses.
The way you smelt.
The way laying on your chest felt.
How I could hear that heartbeat.
How I miss that heartbeat.
And my yellow roses, how the petals fall.
My name, never again you'll call;
and the yellow roses, they grow again, how they grow again.
-
You are a flower that was born from the dust.
You are the flower that ceased my fuss.
You are the flower that made me shine brighter.
You are the flower that is now dust.
-
Now, yellow petals fall to the ground.
From your sweet nostalgic roses.
The way you smelt.
The way laying on your chest felt.
How I could hear that heartbeat.
How I miss that heartbeat.
And my yellow roses, how I buy them fresh.
My name, never again you'll call;
and the yellow roses, how they remind me of your voice, your smell, your looks, your gentle touch.
Oh the yellow roses, someday they'll be gone.
Oh the yellow roses, how I wish they would stay until dawn.
YOU ARE READING
~Poem Book~
PoetryLike a Diary, This Book will be, Through my head blows a breeze, it makes the leaves freeze, Orange leaves falling down, This is my story, and I won't let it drown.
