If I had a petal for every time someone
pretended to love me, and lied to me
(your truth is always half lie)
I'd be swimming in an ocean of roses!
believe me when I tell you..
darling, love is nothing but scarcity!
except when 'I love you' becomes a drug.
In the end, every flower has its own story
alike love, it only grows for glory..
and without being sorry,
tries to write its own blazing destiny!
behind the ruins of nightfall,
defying the odds, those changing souls,
the burning candles of a new-found love!
good write, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes! Every flower has its own story. Nice piece of work.