xLostCauzex
Active Member
The Flower On My Windowsill
Elegant as its pedals face the sun,
Soaking up every inch of the suns smile,
Multiplying my envy of the flowers company,
For I kept my admiration in denial.
Oh how it shined in the light,
Passerbys glance astonishing its beauty,
The smell so alluring to life,
As I capture its essence, truly.
It's stem so green and bold,
The color oh so bright and true,
Basking in the morning breeze,
Soaking in the morning dew.
I plucked the flower from the earth,
It's roots holding on by force,
Grasping down for dear life,
It's fate laid out a course.
Satisfying my selfish need,
I admired it in the light,
Oh how it shined and smiled at me,
This truly was a blind less sight.
A handful of the richest soil,
The most precious picked of flower pots,
A special place on my windowsill,
Soaked up every ounce of water, dropped.
Days later the flower dies,
As it was to dry to shed its tears,
How foolish of a man I am,
Selfish beyond my years.
For the flower yearned for the sun,
My greed and envy was to strong,
A love, oh such a foolish love,
For my love did not belong.
By: My Nguyen [Me]
Elegant as its pedals face the sun,
Soaking up every inch of the suns smile,
Multiplying my envy of the flowers company,
For I kept my admiration in denial.
Oh how it shined in the light,
Passerbys glance astonishing its beauty,
The smell so alluring to life,
As I capture its essence, truly.
It's stem so green and bold,
The color oh so bright and true,
Basking in the morning breeze,
Soaking in the morning dew.
I plucked the flower from the earth,
It's roots holding on by force,
Grasping down for dear life,
It's fate laid out a course.
Satisfying my selfish need,
I admired it in the light,
Oh how it shined and smiled at me,
This truly was a blind less sight.
A handful of the richest soil,
The most precious picked of flower pots,
A special place on my windowsill,
Soaked up every ounce of water, dropped.
Days later the flower dies,
As it was to dry to shed its tears,
How foolish of a man I am,
Selfish beyond my years.
For the flower yearned for the sun,
My greed and envy was to strong,
A love, oh such a foolish love,
For my love did not belong.
By: My Nguyen [Me]