Did you really love those flowers if it was just the glimer and colors you praised, for your love died along with those flowers.
A love is beyond the barrier of beauty or color, adore them just as much when they reside beneath the pages with just the grace of demise, care for them just as much when the softness is gone as the time stiffens them.
Love without a reason for if the reason fades the essence of love wilts along
Give me a bouquet of dead florals, I will cherish them forever, as even the time is forbidden to steal its beauty.
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Pieces of my soul
PoetrySoothe the demons in my head, hold me till my death. Highest-ranking #1 in self-absorbed #1 in unsaidfeelings #1 in poem collection #2 in poem collection #4 in latenightthoughts #3 in latenightthoughts #4 in selfreflection
