Black Flower

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    Black Flower
    As she holds the deadly flower
    She starts to shiver and to shake
    Holding tightly till the hour
    That all reality seems fake

    And as she starts to close her eyes
    She lets the flower hit the ground
    It starts to wilt and slowly dies
    This thorny king has been uncrowned

    As she sees this wilted flower
    A sense of joy comes to her face
    Though remnants of this vile tower
    Put harder problems in its place

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    Merrilyn commented on Black Flower

    03-26-2009

    nice work please check some of my poems out as well
    Reply to Comment

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    moto’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    untitled 0 04/01/2009
    Black Flower 1 03/20/2009
    Body Language 0 03/20/2009

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