You once called me beautiful A flower Your rose Our love blossomed And together we danced But slowly It...we died Like flower petals with no wind We fell Slowly And yet we still hit the ground To you in our death My petals wilted And your rose Turned into a wrinkled piece of what used to be beautiful
~ hiddengirl75
P.S. The featured image is not my photo, I found it on Tumblr.
What’s so great about it?
Why does everyone want it?
Do I need it?
It is such an easy word
To throw around
Why do we give it so much meaning and yet so little?
We say “I love it!”
Do we really?
What is love?
How do you love?
How do we use love?
So easy to say.
Too easy to say.
So much meaning and yet so little.
Do I need love?
Do you need love?
Maybe not.
But do you crave it and want it?
Simple, yes.
That’s why I hate it and the word.
It’s too easy to use or misuse.
Too easy to say.
And love itself is such a touchy subject.
Can you say it?
“I love it” or “I love you”
It should be heavy
When you say it
It should hold meaning
But does it?
A poem based off a weekend challenge that I missed the deadline to. So here I am posting it here, because I haven’t posted poetry in awhile.
Until we meet again…
~ hiddengirl75
Wandering with me 