deepundergroundpoetry.com

Blemished petals

A fool sees perfection and settles.
A human sees imperfection and fixes it.
A hero sees a human and loves it.

We're all blemished roses, with bruised petals, stories of growth and struggle.

We grow big and tall
towering above.
Thorns for protection
and colour for love.

Nature for company
We speak with the wind.
Development is possible
Just let people in.

One day were picked
Loved and looked after.
By family or a lover
Cradled, fed and filled with laugher.

Even with nourishment
We falter and wilt.
All flowers die
Abandoned in the silt.

They buy another bunch
With one thought in mind.
This one will never look at good, or smell as sweet,
as the ones left behind.
Written by DeathnoteWhovian
Published
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