Forget Me Not

Twisted petals of forget-me-nots
leave calloused hands unheld.
Dreaming days are never over,
not with love-laced words witheld.
Sky searching, soul stripping virgins
hoping God will say his grace.
Shining reflections of evergreens
imprint the image of Glory’s face.

In the minds of the damned, we’re tangled,
all other lifelines have long been mangled.

I’ve picked every forget-me-not in your garden
but you seem to have forgotten what happened
among the very flowers you grew.
So now, I’ll hope that God will say his grace.

2009