The Forgotten Flower and the Abandoned Angel There is nothing that can stunt a flowers growth. Neglect it. Forget you planted it. Confuse it. Tell it you love it. Lie to it. Call it names. Kill it. Then ignore it again. It will not stop growing. It may grow thorns. It may wilt at times. It may decompose, like a symphony in rewind. It will not stop growing. And even when it dies, The space it once took up will bud a hurt. Absence. An impression of beauty. Regret will blossom in your mind forever. There is nothing that can stop an angels wings from growing. You can swear at him. You can lie about your love for him. You can call him names, And confuse him. Kill him, And then forget about him. But his wings will grow. Perhaps his feathers will be black. Perhaps his heart will be sore and Perhaps his flesh will decompose. A symphony in rewind. But his wings will grow. And when they do, Their absence will force feathers as you swallow, A mere impression will exist, And regret will burden your shoulders Like the wings of mistaken opportunity.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Aug 2014 19:32:27 +0000
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