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Our last dying rose The thorns that hold the grace but Love knows no way to survive because
I remember picking dandelions as a kid gathering a bouquet to bring to my teacher or mom the innocence behind it I didn't know that these beautiful flowers were actually
Guilt blooms in my chest like an unwelcomed garden. But luckily I chose to weed them out before they had any chance to stay and wind around my heart.
he lays in her lap as her petal-soft fingers run through his star-ridden curls he tells her that her freckles could make an entire galaxy
The children run and play in a dark world. The smoke infiltrates our lungs: fits of coughing interrupt their play. They play in a dead world, putting on a show for those half-alive.
as every single flower dies, my flowers grow in my insides: and here they live, and here they die
Somethings different about the way you wake up in the morning A deep breath and a smile as you roll out of bed Still groggy, but doing your daily steps regardless There's something odd about the way you walk
As a best friend then brother, now potential life partner These feelings… These intense, powerful feelings. As infants grow to become teenagers into adults… A typical crush grew to become infatuation into love.
Where foot petals unfolded Under canopies of foliage was a place Neither good nor bad -- Was simply beyond. Rumi told Me this: these words tattooed
Jeweled horizon The spring flowers fall dormant Wind begins its dance
You stayed; You left; Like allergies in the spring. After flowers came and went, so did you. The festival came too late. I didn't even get to celebrate you. You have no idea
flowers deflowered when anxious hands tug on life not theirs vibrant pigments say, i'm right for the plucking plush filled pistils, ripe with life. snatched by roots reminded of my frailty.
Rose petals wrap against each other in their whispered secrets; too scared to reveal the charms they own. Masks are not ever real.
Let the aroma, the sweet intoxication, of the lilies take you away. Their white petals, beckoning, follow them
Your lips were rose petals, dipped in natural moisture and your skin was kissed by the sun, leaving me constantly warm.
Flowers can't grow without water, Love can't grow without guidance. Flowers can't grow with stress, Love can't grow with hate. Flowers bloom and die,
Quiet in its blooming, Branching thoughts of wisdom, Soft petals cascade. In lavender and gentle pinks. Then soul crushing blues, sweep the garden, petals peacefully cascading no more,
Dahlia, My Love You carry on through the rain While persevering through the shine No matter how the storm rages You manage to bloom each and every time
The bumblebees are swarming again, Buzzing sweet tunes in my ears. They're trying to reach the flowers in my heart That blossomed from your love.
Daises and roses hang above your head, Your fro' expanding into effotless curls. Your voice. My favorite sound. The sun bringing out your golden feautres. Pretty brown eyes, I'm lost in.
Red was never my color Until I met you. My, once, pale cheeks Are now a freckled rose; You've made me bloom.
Crystal Water and Clear skies...
your lies are like petals picked from the most poisonous flower A flower I could sit and listen to for hours the more I listen the more you pick, and you cast them over me like stars in the darkest sky. and they land,
Every time, every day that I see those flowers I think of you. Why did I choose to keep them?
My mother spoke to me in terms of flowers She spoke to me in sunflowers, Tall, strong, and always reaching upwards She spoke to me in the stem’s of wild garlic,
I never saw a facethat I Saw as much as yours that golden part it sent me into such a spiral wringing together hands that invariably aimed to only touch yours;
"Have you ever dated a girl?" He asked. I wanted to tell him that she grows flowers from her veins
Treetops freckled the surrounding mountains from the months of March through October. The summer brought an art gallery of plants. This part of Oregon is beautiful year-round.
The first sign of spring is like this should be new year’s, not the era of the dead, icebox hand of winter clutching Mother Nature, like the fingers of the pastel, cotton-candy dawn
flowers need more than water to grow maybe that’s why I run away at the sight of them blooming I can’t even remember to water them once a day how can I sustain them for years?
// i was your flower. you watched me grow and admired my beauty all while knowing that you were going to kill me //
Oh look how the rose withers. Oh look how the petals fall. With time it begins to shrivel, Till time fine’ly makes its call.
One day I picked a daisy Full of life and flower dreams Some may say I’m crazy But I'm telling you it sings Tonight it hums a playful tune
somewhere far away surviving far past decay is a garden full of the flowers of emotion the garden has every feeling the good ones and the bad from happiness and anger to feeling very sad
What I would give for you to hold me in your arms. What I would give to be with you another day. You know, it's tough now, living here without you. But I'm okay. Yeah, I'm okay.
Dear Death,To you I've never cowered underYet casualties of those I loveWill tear my life asunder
I hide my body, And decorated my soul, I don't put doormats or door signs, That says "welcome" anymore, I got rid of all the dodders, And sowed seeds of dreams in my chest,
Everything I am is tied to my stomach. I feel everything so intensely; sometimes, I feel the wind get knocked out of me. I am convinced there’s a little girl in my heart pulling the strings from up above.
Upon the high cliff lies a flower. It is more than any ordinary flower. This flower bleeds with every color of the rainbow, Stars of crystals dotted on its petals and glistening in the sunlight.
i am a flower. one within another field of flowers, but i am withered and wilted. i am this way because of the wind it howls at me, for i am vulnerable in the night. it pulls on my leafs and petals,
To Love: You are so enchanting. A blooming rose bush. You have so many flowers. So wonderfully fragrant. You are so vivid.
The flowers on the side of the road are works of art. They never downed a diet shake or smeared makeup on their petals yet we pluck them from the ground to marvel at their beauty.
Where have the roses gone from my garden? Look how those left freeze in cold winter wind; Nothing I can do nor ask for pardon To save the lovely petals as they’re thinned.
Happiness We all strive for it It is what we live for, after all. Some achieve it, to some degree,
Flowers are sweet. Bees can sting, the last thing I heard was the songbird sing. Friendly pollinators make the flowers shake and tilt. All the while, you left me lying there buried in the silt.
Love is a worthless waste of time The expense is more than any man can afford What is love, if a heart can only be broken? What are flowers, but plants soon to die?
Today I found a flower It was wilted and brown and alone So I took it and nourished it I gave it water, food, and company I gave it time and space
She has flowers in her Golden wheat hair. Her limbs are tree branches, With leaves at her fingertips. Her eyes are brilliant stars; Her face glows with warm sunlight.
Like the sea he flows Sparkles in his eyes of blue, Keeping me afloat. Like the stars he shines Drawing constellations on
They’d once seen you in my valley by Vir Singh Galaxy of flowers Suddenly appears in my valley. Colourful butterflies Are playing with flowers,
While we were innocent and happy you made me feel like flowers And I couldn't keep them to myself So I decided to plant them all over and make them as beautiful as you made me
Never was a florist profound as he, Arranging blooms in a glorious feat Those small posies held marvelous verses Peach blossom leaves dance in backs of hearses
I don’t talk a lot At first And I hope that that’s okay But once I know your warmth And feel safe letting words escape When I know they and I don’t annoy you Then I’ll tell you
Middle of Winter,A flower sings the blues.Painted red then brown.
For you're a rose and they're just dandelions, Just wishing they could be as lovely as you.
The beauty holds the rose in beauty. Lush petals bloom and glimmer in her fleshly palms, and the dew drips, drips, drips to the stone floor
Beast in the Hydrangeas
She planted beautiful flowers All with different colors and different namesThey all had different needs non e were the sameShe took as much care of them as she could She watered them and loved them She always said they were ugly and they weren't g
Acknowledge and embrace the smell, the feel, and the taste. Understand: the power of the flower. The flavor is sour- diesel. On a cloud
Who gave you the right to use us at your disposal? In the end, you'll be alone--- like an empty vessel stuck with resinating regret. Are you aware that you're leading to your own self destruction?
Words tend to dissolve in tea And I’ve found they often rise with the steam My lungs breath then in you see Leaving words to sprout in me But I’ve found that with my lungs so full
rose, carnation,you are a flower in the field of creation.iris, violet,even as you try and deny it.
I spent my years of sanity On thought to be usefull things, But now I find myself up to my neck in anxiety So I follow every dream thats chased
There are cracks in the sidewalk that represent my life;A broken home;A broken family;Needing something to mold to.I've become the flower sprouting throughThat people tend to walk upon.
I am Yes that’s me I am the little girl That can make things grow One day I ran far from home... To an open field
The cherry blossom tree, likes to hide away its plumes, but for two weeks everything changes. As the spring dawns it flames out, pink blossoms opening up.
Mom, I see you in every flower, your kind heart in the petals, your radiance in the colors, your determination in the stem. you are full of life, wonder, and beauty.
Weave flowers through your hair while we sit in the garden. To be alone with you, not touching, never touching, is a sublime torture, an exercise in self-denial and gratification,
The flowers grow But I could care less. The birds are chirping again. But their sound is not music to my ears.
I am from the seeds dropped from familiar hands, dug into the cigar box storing old memories, sprinkled lightly onto the soil which bore me into this earth,
You once had so much faith in me,a flower you said you wouldn’t let wilt .A flower you thought for sure would, without proper nurture .You watered me words, and trimmed my thorns tended my soil, gave me sun and placed me in your quaint little g
I whisper to the petals My fears and doubts And wait for an answer. I know their little ears Heard my soft tones. I waited so long for A reply that I forgot What I had told them And danced away, A smile on my face.
I wish to be like a tree Have the sun provide all my energy I crave to destroy what I was before In order to become something more beautiful, a part of nature. Instead I'm human The worst of them all
They talk to me. The decapitated heads are sprinkled around my feet. Each with their jaw closed tight, waiting for the opportunity to speak.
she would kill for a moment behind your eyes but would that make her a sinner? how beautiful your blossoming mind must be if even your foggy words stir with her the love she thinks is 10,000 daisies,
you're the perfect girl to write songs about and i've got enough time on my hands to try and get it right
she's a pretty little girl with a ring on each finger she cut her hair so short like the girl in the picture she's running around being her own brown-eyed-girl in a new skirt each day and
In a day are so many sad hours You may think I'd spend them alone But I give love to happy flowers And they make me feel at home
As the light shines around me/ all I can see/ is the world broken to pieces/glass is shattered/scattered on the ground/there is no more green/rather everything is gray and brown/death hangs in the air/the fresh air is knocked out of me/what
I’m not a poet But you smell like Those overused blue violets And red roses
I want the shoreline, the foamy white waves colliding into rock like soldiers sparring in battle; the horizon brushed with soft strokes of lavender, rose pink and azure; the low-toned
Usted es la flor que vive en la desierto Cuando el calor es fuerte y no hay agua Todavia puedes vives Tu eres la milagre del mundo
There are many stories not told, pasts that will unfold. A loving, a sad, a true story, of those who fought for thier glory. Leave a map for tomorrow, to find the treasure of the past.
You are immune to the Devil’s wrath; you walk the straight and narrow path Walking with grace and style; your eyes shine like the River Nile So slender and so fair, your fragrance so potent; you have blossoms in your hair
I lay in a bed of rose flowers. The thorns pricked My thighs blood trickled down My sides Into the forever decaying soil Pricked fingers crimson gushing I was named after a rose
Flowers sit still in the rain that pours nicely through all the night Thirsty, their petals accept heaven’s tears as clouds hide the light Footsteps are heard by the roses and tulips who love the sound,
Smiles are sunrises and spring flowers. They rise and grow from the joys of life. So smile. And bring beauty into this world.
Poety is a part of me The buzzing of a bee you hear The gleaming mirror you see All I can let out is a dry tear
It's very strange, The way some things change As it all goes by so fast and our poor hearts hardly ever last. You were a part of my happiness
My soul has been closed and hardened by the weariness of the world so that no one is allowed in. Grass has grown through the cracks of my cement heart and I have never encountered someone who
You'll never understand What you did People like to plant gardens in my heart They'll scatter seeds across my soul like Rice after a wedding Flowers will blossom and
Breeze gently blowing Flowers Sway from side to side Sweet scents twirl on by
Not many people know this, not very many care... my favorite flowers are Tiger Lillies. My favorite berry is a blackberry, which you know. I listen to most music, but yours is my favorite,
A flower, A beautiful bloom, A well-lit room, A beautiful girl, Latina and lovely. She made my scars beautiful, With the soft touch of a sharpie, And the graceful touch of art.
To feel like this, unhinged from a door keeping me hostage, I can truly say now that all of the marrigolds spotting the sun are planted by the sound of my voice. In my head,
i could sit here and explain my loneliness in some metaphor about flowers- make it seem as if within it all there is beauty there is grace
I feel relaxing, As I look at the flowers Colorful, cheerful, and bright. ……………………………. Summer, hot, and the sun No cold, no snow, and no school Sea, beach, and the tan. ………………………………
Prancing around Lillies marked the destination of a new place. Inside of a cave I dropped my bag on concrete steps and sat ontop of a hill from the wooden old house. Washed away by the wind were roses, sunflowers, and rabbits.
Softest petals, red as blood, blossoming with hate and love. Lying in a bed of snow that bends and weaves, that blooms and grows.
"The Fated Flower The Final breath Understand, A fate called death The gentle lion The loyal horse May have seen,
Walking in summer is swimming, legs cutting strokes through mid-afternoon heat and humidity. Dappled shade on the sidewalk
You always told me I reminded you of red roses And suddenly I’m nine years old Dirtying my favorite white dress in a garden I’d sneak out to Picking petals off of sunflowers
If I could give a flower, I would give a flower to you. A flower is a symbol, it sends a message too. There is something to be said, of its droopy rosy dew. Love light like the star shine, tearing up around you.
Drenched upon the battle fieldUnder silver weapons wieldMisdirection her only shieldThe wildest of roses grew
I am a seed I am planted and nurtured, carefully tended as I grow, there is no knowledge of what I will become, a beginning awaiting I am a flower
Daisy heads face dirt frost encasing their bodies price of perfection
He called me a hopeless romantic. He said that I was naïve for wanting someone to love me like the sun loves the moon, And he turned up his nose when I said that I wanted kisses like the stars because they are
Let flowers grow from your hands from love and care each stem stands Some may break and your hands may ache When you let another take a flower One more will grow within the hour
I feel so alone
Awake! Bud of green,
flowers never cease to make me happy. seeing them flourishing in a garden bed, growing taller and vrighter with each passing day. seeing them creadled in the crook of a young man's arm,
People always wonder why the greatest & most loved people leave us. We are all flowers in a beautiful a garden. Some of us more beautiful than others, whether it be because of our actions, or simply our hearts of gold.
3/30/2010, age 15, school project Fire, but a simple flame, kindles in the night. Slowly, it consumes the trees like waves of the ocean. It breaks the bonds that create them, that make them whole.
3/30/2010, age 15, school project As a passion burns right through the soul, Wood turns to embers that glow with the last, Only to leave the broken compounds of its atoms behind.
I am like a purple iris Mkxed into an ocean of blue flowers. Although my feet are firmly rooted in the ground, I sway slightly in the breeze, always searching for the sun.
I am the one who named all the flowers
I had received a GoodMorning text today *heart emoji*
I have no color, No shade of gray.
When I was a kid I thought all poems were about roses
Will I see you
Red roses and blue violets Were never- Never will be Enough. Because I cared Enough for the both of us. Maybe that's why You didn't care at all. Despite my fingers being buried in yours,
I tried to forget.But you grew roots around my rib
My crooked smile and loud laugh Are things that make me flawless My hyperactive crave for change Are things that make me lawless My 4'10" stature and petite frame Attribute to my smallness
people will never recognized a simple girl. who is like other girls, simple as a paper flower. who really is nothing compare to the real flowers. whose color and petals are different from others.
What if we were flowers? No more worries or troubles I don't want to suffer Can't do these troubles I want to be a flower. Won't have to worry about the
These brightly colors,
There once was a lady who thought, the new flowers that she had bought, Just weren't yet thriving; it was poison ivy, And so a rash soon she got.
Flowers are pretty, just like me. Flowers smell nice, just like me. Flowers can dance in the wind, just like me. Sunflowers turn where the sun sure shines. Like a sunflower, I find myself
No other flower I know of Can express your affection Like a lovely, healthy rose Be it red or blue White or yellow Orange or purple Pink or violet Each with a specific meaning
A Rose for Love,
I found a weed in the garden and called it "a beautiful flower" but they smacked my hand and called it "disgusting" "a pest" "undsesirable" and pulled its roots from the ground
You should have known better
You said to me, "I am Lost" So I etched the constellations in every freckled part of my skin, so you would always know where you came from when you traced your fingers across my hips.
Flowers Bloom. Flowers weep Flowers grow Flowers die. Flowers are beauty to every a man's eye. If flowers were not their…. how would we understand the rhetorical meaning behind the
They aren't just scars They are demons I fought at 00:00 They are my insecurities My deepest fear And my lonely nights They are my insults I have recieved and the Emotion I can't contain
Spike in my stem I use it quite well to poke gash make swell putrify hell. To extinguish the sanctity within the molester their clumsy, rash finger destined to fester.
All my life I found it hard to properly express myself
I hope you're comfy,
And outside, life Is cold. The trees are as bare as my bones are hollow, and through the chains over my window I can see the world outside- Moving. It's all still moving, without me.
In a nearby field, there lives a rose, as wild a creature as an unbridled stallion, an old friend of mine.
Roses are red Violets are blue I like bacon More than I like you Tulips are pink Marigolds are yellow Don't you dare Touch my jello
My eyes roamed the beautiful sea of flowers.
The tulips --Red Yellow Purple White-- Raise sleepy heads Above their bed of grass As they nod softly Still on the cusp of sleep The breeze filling dreams With spring and summer scent
The rose told the peony, I will love you for all eternity! But the peony replied, Mr. Bluebell's the apple of my eye! And the bluebell said I'll love you, Peony, when I'm dead,
What would the earth do if I outlast forever? The trees will perish The flowers will relinquish But life will continue on
Delicate finger tips caress fragile petals
The flowers sway in the wind, cold, but still happy and moving. The flowers are as little as ants, but they can still make an impact on people lifes. I sometimes wonder why people like to receive flowers.
The flowers sway in the wind, cold, but still happy and moving. The flowers are as little as ants, but they can still make an impact on people lifes. I sometimes wonder why people like to receive flowers.
Wild flowers do not last forever as autumn passes
Little flowers of Nigeria picked ad plucked from their patch a helpless bouquet of reflective eyes, eyes half empty with tears flowers desperate to reroot but the longer we wait
March twenty-fifth is when I missed your tender kiss.
If you think of Spring, what do you see?Flowers, eggs, bunnies, or bees?I see the grass, green and lush;The streams filled with a serene gush.The sky is a blanket, infinite and blue;
Such simple weeds these dandelions
All of us are like flowers, we start out real slow. From a really small seed, we learn things as we grow. To be better than someone else is our focus rather than the flow. Everyone has their moment,
Every month, I receive
FLOWER, ITS HAS VARIOUS COLOUR, ITS HAS VARIOUS NAME, ITS HAS MYRIAD SHAPE, ITS HAS MYRIAD DESIGN. NOW, I KNOW HOW BEAUTIFULLY, THE FLOWER IS, I KNOW HOW NICE SMELL,
What is a want and need compared to a desire? i want money, need air,but you i desire for you are the one i want to acquire the one i want to see after work when im tired
The plants wither and die when winter rolls around,all their nutrients and beauty belong again to the ground.Are people like this too, perhaps?Who once stood tall and bold and beautiful,
there were pretty daises but the lights are all gone the sun’s on vacation the stars have seen a galaxy far more beautiful than ours they’ve gone on a journey the light bulbs have burst
Blooming springtime buds,
Everyone knows what happens
We seed We grow We bud We blossom We spread We wilt As my short, Singular life progressed, I thought not of those ‘round me I thought only of getting to the top.
I am from Picture Frames From Yankee Candles and febreeze Airspray I am from the weeds growing under the deck (tall, green, it tasted like celery) I am from the Begonia semperflorens the Gaillardia aristata,
In darkness they fly Wind carries them swiftly forward Flowers in the night.
Why is it that whenever,
Oh, how I envy the ways of courtship In old Victoriana. Its mannerisms. Its motions. Its subtlety. The messages, hidden in plain sight With simple gestures and sleight of hand, so much could be said,
She is sitting in a gorgeous
My little orange flowers
Have you ever stomped on flowers? I have. Stomp Stomp Stomp
And although she is amongst all the different flowers, she stands the tallest, the most unique.
We all don’t understand,Our opinions aren’t in demand,Our souls are like flowers,They can topple over like towers,They bloom, then fade away,They go to heavan or hell to stay,Flowers have no powers,
Shadowed dark skies roar over head, as I lay here dreaming in my bed. In my mind I stand in a field of flowers, and I become lost in daydream for countless hours. I'm surrounded by dark colors and hues,
Average Nuisance, Unnoticed Weed. You grow--then you die, they do not notice when those ugly petals disappear from their garden. Trapped beneath the shadows of their beautiful leaves,
you know its spring when,a chalky finger points the wayon the face of broken pavement too,a tulip gardens bed and,a splash of color grows.
Android Etymologically speaking, a human-like device Metaphorically speaking, how you look in my eyes Ice-cold and lifeless with a human form The cause of my pain and why I'm forlorn
Flowers are the diamonds of nature. They blossom and bloom like little turtles emerging from their shells. The dewdrops are like jewels, glistening glamourously in the sun.
Techni- colored butterflies fly around my head like petals in the wind even though the flowers are dead.
Can't take it anymore Like flowers in a storm I've always been an angel With a demon in the core.
My last recollection of seeing a black butterfly was not long ago. I remember it was on a particular flower. I remember it was on a red flower that had just bud after sun rise.
I've been sitting here for three hours My brain, wracked My nails, bitten Why do I write? Why do I write? I write because I can and because I don't have to
Walk casually along a path Look lovingly at the rose bushes And chrysanthemums, radiating with color A rainbow which never disappears And rain may never wash away Nothing like chalk on the sidewalk
Life Life is that everlasting flower The flower that is always in constant bloom People are that dying powder
you have etched into my heart a walking path lined with flowers of every color; i've walked it once or twice, myself, and i've seen bluejays and buttercups
What more can I say But that I hate Valentine's Day And all the stupid clichés I mean, come on Get real Roses and flowers only lead to allergies Chocolate and strawberries lead to more calories
Walking through the garden of our memories.. watering the flowers with coincide with our growth.. closing my eyes i breathe in the fresh air..
Plant the public’s view in a garden where color peeks through the foliage, where men stop and smell the roses, the hemlocks, the long locks. Where I sit buried by the roots of my scalp,
You've been with me for all my life; time I've thrown away. I used to pick up your petals when they fell before. They stayed for some time my dear, but not so anymore.
Green, lush flora, flowing, swirling 'round.Such beauty remains unaffected y man,If only it was left to itself.Earth will continue post-humankind,Lacking our catastrophic disturbance.
I love you, he saysHis lips tremblingA withered flower blooming againFrom the waste of our hot breath
the lotus flowerSHOUTS a curious fragrance in the summer. sailing through cycles,like the ripplingprunes in wet fingers. the lotus flower,similar to photo-synthesis,must photograph the trip.
I dream of filling pages, but I never seem to have the words. I dream of being clever, to make people turn their heads and whisper, "how did she do that?"I want to leave them awestruck.
I don’t wish to be a flower Like other people do
White rose, Do you ever tire of your beauty? I see all the other flowers, Bloom in jealousy. Frankly, it’s not your thorns I avoid, When you hug me.
I see you all, walking by me I am a wall flower in the dark And you're free to tell your secrets to a shadow Undeterred and unresponsive to the words around me I write my own But wall flowers don't speak
The Acre of Broken Dreams (Ghetto Concrete Lines) By Majae Brown Jackson and Pulaski Broken acre of Dreams From which many weeds grew
When I first met you, flowers started blooming in my darkest spots. All because of you, I know I have a light And it shines for you alone. And I thank you For your time and your kindness.
I’ve always been good at this. I can pull words out of my head the way kids pick flowers, not just breaking the stem but tearing them out of the earth – the root that had never seen sun all clumped
How sweet and how lovely it has been made, Glowing bright as though Kissed by the sun But don't be dismayed, Its stem will feel smooth and soft like its very pure,
The light has risen again I'm out of this bed, But I cant sleep and my eyes have turned red, trying to see things alternative to this bed
On the first day we met you became my reeve, It was the color you had shown that was perceived. It was a splash of green, a dash of blue and a bouquet of red, You would have had me at hello, if that is all you had said.
A garden of white, bouquets of black and purple. Black and purple flowers that resemble her bruised memories. A garden created of pathways, interconnected, confused, and dizzy. A garden of mazes,
I've seen it all I've seen many females fall No, no, no I won't lie I admit I've stumbled a few times we are all assigned to intertwine souls and unfold memories that are set in stone
They said to my face that my garden was beautiful, that my dreams would have fruit, and grow vivid blooming flowers, but they walked away muttering It’s smothered in weeds
yellow was the color of innocence the color of our freshman year it was the shade of the v-neck you bought at forever 21, on our trip to the mall yellow, the color of the cheesecake we shared for mary’s birthday
I see all of the flowers When drought gives them pain You help them by crying showers Say you love them in the rain I'm in drought because I'm lonely What about me? Can you do the same?
For my loving heart began to open just as the petals Awaiting for a bee to come and find me Alas, the buzzing ceased but a lonely caterpillar came to thee
A pure divine to life, beautiful as a lotus that blooms from the dripples of water, and the rays from the sun. From the soil a seed was planted, deep in the womb The anatomy wept from agony and painless fear
We were once a people. We taught together. We fought together, For freedom. Our people won. Black teachers, doctors, politicians. The sky was the limit. We were family. Daddy was always there.
I am a product of the Earth, much like you. My people blossom in the motherland, soaking in the bright sun. Our vines weave around the rough terrain, entangling in each other We grow in these dense fields.
Through thick and thin Through rain and wind A wildflower grows Through it all It stands tall Its growing never slows In day and night In dark and light It stands up tall and straight
I long to see the flowers Blooming in the summer Opening their petals to the rain. They must be so beautiful, These flowers in the summer And because of this they are probably also vain.