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Kyla Nov 2023
She was a bright red rose in the field of dandelions
Reminding me there is no need for compliance
The shimmer of her petals drew people from afar
They shinned brighter than any evening star
For a ***** on the finger left them in fear
Why was she like this?
All alone
So afraid
That is when I got brave and came to her aid
Only to find she needed no upgrade
She was bright
She was brave
She was light
She forgave
And no one could take that away
She was a bright red rose in the field of dandelions
Reminding me there really is no need for compliance
Reimers Oct 2023
Wandering through a field of flowers,
Petals sway with each gentle breeze,
Only to stumble and embrace the rich soil,
A purple rose to my face, respectfully bowing to it.

Its vibrant purple hue set it apart from the rest,
I was entranced by the way it stood out,
So I knelt down and offered it to dance,
Carefully plucking it from the ground.

The purple rose swayed like a graceful dancer,
As if it were the one controlling the wind's rhythm,
I met an extraordinary partner in this floral waltz,
I lift it above my head, and it twinkled with delight.

What if I let the wind carry you to the sky?
I released the rose, and it vanished from sight,
As darkness enveloped the deep blue sky above,
Only to reveal the moon, with a twinkling star beside it.

Front row seats to admire its beauty,
A hidden gem, beneath all this earthly rubble,
Who knew you'd ascend so high,
Flamboyant and shining ever so bright.

The soil is not where you truly belong,
For it has hindered your growth for so
long,
To stand out, high above, with that radiant glow,
Is what you've always deserved to know.
I never stopped writing.
Phia Oct 2023
I’ve resorted to making wishes on dandelions
For miracles
I know
Will never come
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2023
Cobwebs in my eyes;
how to see the world- old and dusty
My love is bit rusty, to even attempt
to steal a heart- a metal mouth speaking,
I spoke of how it felt to be made of gold,
well at least in the eyes of calling something mine

But yes I dug those many trenches,
and stuck a pole that stood as a reminder to it all
And I eventually gained the skill to write out what's
on my mind in secret- a constant mental note

In a distance so far away from myself,
striking a deal with the covers over my heart
A wet blanket; crying under the fabric
of it, to hide away those many tears from the world
I must have been a rose; well at least once before,
but sometimes the roses are still trying to find themselves,
a meaning, an identity, a cause, and a reason to grow

Tell me if you've ever felt like a beautiful flower,
though none of their eyes seem to see such beauty
In an unclear sight; overlooked by those you love,
                  -a story of all the world' blurry flowers
Goddess Rue Aug 2023
Black Dahlia tears,
Beckoned beneath the crimson,
Bloodbath gleamed garden.
Dear white dahlia,
Flushed with extremity,
Desire to wound,
With a wounded heart,
Restlessly witnessing,
That guilty presence,
Of now Black Dahlia,
Plaguing me.

I detest this infestation,
It manifests hues of blues,
As I stood there tearing,
The garden I cared for.
Do you hate me?
Does it hurt that much?
Let me do it.
So that you won't have to die.

So soon and so young, I'll cut your thorns surface deep.

-Persephone
:]
Isa Jun 2023
the desire to unwrap your ego, imagination, and ingenuity
drives me to heights I have not seen.
as I can't look at the ground when I search for you, but always looking up high above me.
you are a flower on a hill.
a tall sunflower, always reaching to the sun and its stars.
sunflowers don't look down away from its sun,
for looking down destroys their shine.
it is why you do not see me, looking up at you while you look to the sky
don't look down, you'll wither
lua May 2023
wilting flower
crumbling in pieces into the grass
i know it's real when my fingers graze it
crunching against a gentle touch
i know it's real because it's dead

real things can die
fictional things are only forgotten,
at least for a brief moment

yet fictional things can live on
living on indefinitely
an immortal being
a constant in change
an independent variable

but people are flowers
we grow from seeds
rise into stems and enclosed buds
and bloom, some earlier and some later than others
only to wilt away
petal by petal

i wish i was
unreal as the fictional things are
even if i am to be forgotten
just so i may stay as i am
forever.
Meandering Words Apr 2023
i have asked but
it remains unclear
if it was planted
purposefully
by somebody
for some reason
unknown to the rest
or merely discarded
within a pile of
offcuts and waste
following a frenzy
of gardening chores
regardless of
whether it was
intended or not
it has taken root
it has bloomed
bright and proud
brilliant cherry red
against dandelion yellow
and uncut-grass green
one solitary red tulip
amongst the weeds
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