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InkHarted Jun 2020
within the grit of the gentle white
buried within the ***** of the roots
lay life between its silent slumber
while the outward burns to frost-ly breath
all the buds lay in cozy sleep
some think that Tis time to outshine
while the rabbits lay burdened to sleep
and bud and bloom midwinter too soon
their jealousy their end their doom.
as time makes brittle corpses of the children of sin
when the sun melts through the dense white reality
The well-rested princes and princess do rise
sometimes taking time and being patient gives rise to the opportunity.
do not try to outshine by being the first. be an equal and share the glory.
Luna Maria May 2020
and after the storm
the flower
would open
and bloom again
don't forget we are all beautiful blooming flowers
pôr do sol May 2020
I write poetry
and paint sunsets with those words
I lie on rooftops
until the sky's adorned with birds
I dream with music in my mind
and in colours you haven't heard of
To you,
I am beautiful
I am something different
I will fill the hole in you
your emptiness brimming with laughter
I will lift your feet off the earth and plant them into my heart
but you will keep digging -
trying to unbind my roots
But I am not gentle, as that flower
You cannot like what you see, and pluck me out of the water
I am not what I seem on the surface
I am a flood
and I leave destruction in my wake
I will wash away all the paths you've ever walked on
and I will leave you astray
Wondering
if you'll ever find your way back
Cox May 2020
You may be human, but you’re also a flower.
You hold so much power as you walk through April,
no avail.
Head risen.
Petals curtly tucked away.
A rush.
Heart closed.
Walking past the naked trees,
you shiver from the Autumn breeze.
You wait for Spring,
although knowing you haven’t met winter.
You think that this year your heart will freeze.
Cox May 2020
Little flower behave.
You’ll get your turn,
your chance.
Just wait until the sun rises,
then you can dance.
old willow May 2020
The wind passes, tugging at the candlelight.
I dance with no one as an audience,
only petals drifting in the wind.
Sealed all that of the past,
turning it into a beautiful dream.
Now love has exiled me,
I heard someone once said⁠—
Dream is an escape... Is that so?
Adya Mantoo May 2020
Where do I go from here?
Leaf and stems don’t make a bloom.
The dormancy in me
Doesn’t realise in me lies a floret.
In the grassroots which bind me to the earth deep in my soul
Here I lie but where do I go?
It may be difficult
For a flower to bloom
But it withers
In a little while

When the last drop of youth
Has been sipped
And we become nothing
But struggling, boring adults—

You'll look back
At this moment
And wonder if you
Bloomed well

Because nothing
Hurts more
Than realizing
That you are

Just a wilted flower
From the start

Never bloomed
Never blossomed
An unfolded flower—
From the very beginning
Jennifer May 2020
a delicate white rose,
sweet and lonely and
upon it, a butterfly
so fragile and light;
but when will it take flight?
when will it take flight?

ocean waves close to shore,
sand and water entwined
in loving embrace,
earthly beauty skin to skin;
but when will the tide go in?
when will the tide go in?

a passionate fire, spitting and
pouncing, rustled by a breeze,
kissed gently by the air,
the love between them devout;
but when will it die out?
when will it die out?
Reappak May 2020
Eluding the tunnel,
I adored the sunshine, above the yellow sunflowers

                           Which later blinded me!
A little too much is harmful guyzzzz!
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