The color which gives it its nature,
a cherry bloody shade
blossoms in every tree.
The roots take in the sweat
of its dead predecessors
and given proper sun
to the tangled branches that
know no route.
A flower is nurtured
given sweet poison
to kill off weeds in
action.
Rain drowns the sorrows
which flow from above
and are turned into a dove
that holds no flight.
Again and again they grow
all in different shades of care
some bloom is light
others in darkness
and some in between.
YOU ARE READING
The Maze of Curiosities
PoetryPoetry is a writing of passion And a lonely fashion Hated by most But something to toast. This writing would be heaven And a worth given lesson To anyone out there To become bare And be Rare. How may you ask? Leave your mask Forget its existen...
