She was like a pollen, broke free
Flying, going with the flow of the wind
Full of color, so full of life
Until it hit the ground,
A ground so dry that no life could ever survive
She thought there was nothing worst than before
But now, she's stuck and can't grow
So she spent the rest of her life hoping, praying
Until she's brown, rigid and dry
That the wind would fly and lead her back again
To that flower, where she truly belongs.
YOU ARE READING
When Boredom Strikes
PoetryThe sun sets. The darkness came. When boredom strikes, I think of you all over again. Then creativity starts, the journey to memory lane now begins. _______ N.B: Keep reading. May you enjoy this roller coaster ride! -Marjwiiitty
