flowers woven together,
perched upon your head.
the stems a tangled mess,
a chaotic beauty holding
the fragile jewel-like
centrepieces at ease.
even if i were to pluck
each and every petal that
rests atop your head saying
a short rhyme i've had
memorized since kindergarten,
she loves me, she loves me not.
i can simply look into your eyes
and feel my heart plucked
from my chest,
she loves me not.
YOU ARE READING
The Rose and Her Thorns
Poesiea collections of thoughts, feelings, emotions that have been put into words and that have been gnawing at my brain. check out my other poetry book 'among the wildflowers.' ••• poetry collection explicit language all rights reserved completed O6...
