My ex who kept stalking me came to my doorway.
Please forgive me he said.
I handed him a bouquet and said
I will love you till the last flower dies.
He looked at the bouquet and said
But the flowers are already dead.
I answered...
Exactly.
About the Creator
Rose
I am a dedicated writer whose work delves into the depths of human emotion and experience with a unique voice and an eye for detail.
Sea-foam eyes
Rose petals swept off the white deck, scattering across the soft surface like drops of blood. The same wind whipped at her hair, knotting the blonde strands like conspiring fingers. Her pink painted toenails glinted in the electric light. Each bulb dripping pools of white light across the waves. Bleaching the deck in the absence of candles long since burnt down to stubs.
By MikMacMeerkat3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
A meaningful poem, reflects the qualities of a good poet.
Nice flower