Pensée Of Anemones

... preciosity

Rain drops hard on a bout of ground taking its strength not to break for granted.

Loves hits you harder the more you observe how much you've attached yourself. Yet you won't be untangled

Is it like a child's innocence who undoubtedly trusts you, willingly marching into her own demise?

Will it be like how she let you bring her to give up while lovingly staring at you

Have you then learned to forgive yourself after her brighter forgetful smile?

Or have you decided to give up on love when your own heart betrays you?

Is it like when you learn to be faithful to your intention and decide to trust yourself when a breeze of autumn breathes to caress your cheeks?

Have you then learned to believe? To accept that any love is precious no matter how it weighs on your conscience, that you should accept it?

Were you able to give love or was it so precious it might break?

Then would I give myself a chance?