A mother loses a child
And the flowers still bloom
For our tragic affairs do not matter to the lilies
Heartbreak bestows that of a young man
And the flowers still bloom
For our love does not reside in the hearts of the carnations
A woman weeps in pain
And the flowers still bloom
For the poppies do not care for our agony
The flowers still bloom
When we are
sick
alone
dead
and as I am cruel in my terror
I pluck the flowers
For I find myself tired of the garden
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
