Roses are red but so is your blood too.
So why isn't your aura human but blue?
You dance in the rain and thunder's roars
And you hid from the rays of love rise
But your itching at the edge to see the sunset.
Baby, you water your flower but gives it no sun.
Don't you see its dying from too much drink?
Don't you know you need the sun to damp the drench?
Your flower tilts to the ray so you place the pot in the shade.
I guess you did this to be safe; but its flowerless.
Honey, there is no gain in stifling.
Because love and pain are a matched set.
Do like people do and love wild.
Plant your love in the forest of warm.
Know that autumn will come- winter too.
Its OK because spring and summer always follow
Through the season of love's lives.
Honey, don't be so and let go in love.
Its the rains that makes the ray's rainbow.
Believe me. Shakespeare wasn't right. I know;
The moment my heart skipped for you.
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Roses and Religion | ✓
PoetryA collection of poetry based on the writer's emotions and nightly fanciful experiences.
