Roses are red, violets are blue
Sometimes I catch myself wondering how much time I have left with you.
I'll always remember the words you said, I'll always keep every moment locked in my head.
The roses are wilting, your violet's dead. I still have those words stuck in my head.
How much time is left before you leave this world?
Why couldn't I see it the first time with your violet? No one saw it coming.
I loved violets as much as roses.
You planted seed after seed but only few survived, which is why I hang on to every word of wisdom you've ever said to pass it on.
Roses are red, violets are blue. The roses are wilted and the violets are dead, but I'll always remember what you said the last time we spoke. "I love you and please stay out of trouble."
I noticed how your thorns aren't as sharp as they were before. Now I wonder how much time I have left with my wilted rose, before you pass away to join your violet.
YOU ARE READING
The mind of a Daydreamer
PoetryI've always wanted more. More friends, more confidence, more from life in general. This is a book of poems from a daydreamer with her head in the clouds and her feet in concrete.
