She was a wilted
flower
In a cracked, white
vase
Afraid what will come would
be the
hour
She will be utterly
consumed by the
haze.
YOU ARE READING
kāi
PoetryThoughts spared for the ones who love and hurt and smile and believe at the same time. © fourthrose 2015 | AL
Jasmine
She was a wilted
flower
In a cracked, white
vase
Afraid what will come would
be the
hour
She will be utterly
consumed by the
haze.
