Crying, cutting flowers over the sink; what did you think?
Their roots keep rotting; rotting roots won't last another day.
I placed them in a pot, a pot that I placed by the sill.
And hope that they keep going, Oh I hope they have a will.
Crying, cutting flowers over the sink; what did you think?
My roots keep rotting; rotting roots, won't last another day.
You placed me in a spot, a spot that was too cold to grow.
Feel like I'm dying, crying, but yet you will never know.
Crying, cutting flowers over the sink, reaching the brink.
The blooms keep wilting; wilting blooms won't last another day
Feed them only water, starve them of sugar and earth
They'll die without the feeling of love or even mirth
Crying, cuttting flowers over the sink, reaching the brink.
My strength keeps wilting; wilting strength won't last another day.
Though breathing , I keep starving of your kindness and warmth.
Fear that to feel some love, I must start by heading north.
Crying, cutting flowers over the sink, so out of sync.
I tell them to be tougher, tougher than I'll ever be.
Just wait until you're older, strong enough to stand alone.
For now lean on my shoulder and make my heart your home.
Crying, cutting flowers over the sink; so out of sync.
You tell me to be tougher; tough, yet not tougher than you.
You want me to be bolder, always stand up tall and straight.
Lean your ego on my shoulder, push me down until I break.
Flowers, staining my skin ruby rose red; they are all dead.
They just keep dying; dying is all they have ever known
I just keep hurting; hurting is my only truth in stone.
YOU ARE READING
A Random Collection of Poems
PoetryIn this collection of poetry, you'll find poetry about love, mental health, and existential questions. Who would be the last person you'd speak to? If you had a choice, would you rather drown or burn? How do people with mental struggles cope unheal...
