She grew a garden
Of hopeful roses.
She nurtured them.But do you know why
She never cut herself
On their malignant thorns?Because I wrenched the thorns off
First.
YOU ARE READING
Phosphenes
Poetry"The colours aren't real. Words bring them alive." An iridescence of poetry.
Garden Of Missing Thorns
She grew a garden
Of hopeful roses.
She nurtured them.But do you know why
She never cut herself
On their malignant thorns?Because I wrenched the thorns off
First.