The sun flowers bloom, so beautiful, yet so horrible. A man appears, he walks towards them, crushing them with every loud foot step. But they grow back, only if they despised the life they left only a few seconds ago. Every flower stays crushed on the old dirt, happy with the life they had. All except a limp pale one, and that one pale limp unsuccessful one, is me.
YOU ARE READING
Mindless Writing
PoetryI just write weird things whenever I'm mindless, don't judge or your head will be the next soccer balls the boys play with during free period.
