One petal,
Two petals,
The flower is wilting on the floor.
Three petals,
Four petals,
No one seems to care about the bleeding whore.
Five petals,
Six petals,
Her hands are bound with the scarf she had on the night before.
Seven petals,
Eight petals,
Once happy, once vibrate, once a women every little girl could adore.
Nine petals,
Ten petals,
First it was daddy, then her favorite uncle, its safe say it's a familiar heretofore.
Eleven petals,
Twelve,
The victim closes her eyes for the last time, she can't take it anymore.
Thirteen,
Fourteen,
The rose lies crumpled, broken, wilted, dead. Just like the innocent women across the floor.
Fifteen,
Sixteen,
Seventeen,
Eighteen...
There's nothing left for either to give, the world has taken everything and nothing more.
Nineteen,
Twenty...
All the petals are falling on the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Random poetry
PoetryAlright so these are just raw and unedited poems by me, they're the poems I write when I'm upset or angry or I need some sort of outlet. Quite a few of them are about my life so please don't be cruel. Some poems may be triggering to some readers so...
