I have flowers,
They give me a special power,
Blooming under my skin.
When the sun rises,
etched in my veins,
Grow the vines that keep root
The flower inside.
I am a flower child.
I bloom in the wild,
Amongst the fragile blossoms.
I am a sunflower.
I stand tall in my place.
YOU ARE READING
Chronicles Of Midnight
PoetryComposed of poetry and ideas and scenes from short stories that I probably wont write. A bunch of thoughts that might or might not make sense. #unorganized It gets better the further you read, so just keep reading or skip a few. Me.
