Petals
Someone is crushing petals
Pink, red, white.
Bruised. Battered. Shredded. Tattered.
Someone is destroying our dreams,
The dreams we planted and watered.
The ones we sang our simple songs to,
Willing them to grow,
Begging them to trust that we would be there to greet them
When they budded, blossomed and bloomed.
Then we fell asleep,
Eyelids drooping from months of waiting,
Hope wilted with each unfulfilled expectation.
A short nap, a little kip.
And in the nocturne of our slumber,
A hooded marauder broke in,
Stomping through our garden,
Crashing through the fortress of our dreams.
Someone is crushing petals
Pink, red, white, lemon.
I hear the defunct flowers gasping for air,
Their final breath crying out,
for someone to rescue
their desperately dead lives.
We fell asleep...
It was too excruciating to stay awake
and dream.
We shut our eyes
And let you die.
Lifeless.
Trampled and strewn.
Like potpourri waiting to be dried,
Your destiny a dehydrated existence.
Years lived out in a dark dingy corner
Of a mould infested room
Nothing left but your sickly sweet synthetic scent.
Someone is crushing petals
Pink, red, white, lemon, lime.
Bruised. Battered. Shredded. Tattered.
No one will ever crush my petals again.
I am Fuchsia. Carmine. Snow.
No one will ever crush my petals.
I am Turquoise. Jade. Opal.
Pearl. Rose Gold. Titanium.
No one will ever crush my petals.
