Logan Lavenets

Logan Lavenets Poems

The Best Poem Of Logan Lavenets

The Violet Rose

I once had a rose called mine,
Thorns sharper than Freddie cougars blades taking another life.
I often wonder where the blades went, maybe another bystander took them away just to sit and praise at them.
The peddles,
Ohhh the peddles, they could wrap around your eyes just so you can say beauty with a passion, but the average girl picks the rose one by one just to ruin a life to find out if loves in there favor and odds.
He loves me, he loves me not.
See this is not the flower to be partaken with on faith and games.
Maybe you could give it dirt, sunshine, and a dash of rain cause you shouldn't take a life even more when you can support it's health.
The stem leans and a 90 degree angle because no care and life was given.
The scent is corroded with a foul act of misery.
I'll be honest I am that flower mutated into a violet rose,
See I'm not red because I'm like the blood traveling through your vains,
I don't wanna come out to transform into what they call beauty.
I'll stay violet until the bystander returns my Freddy cougars razor thorns,
I'll stay violet till I'm not relied on faith or a game,
I'll stay violet till that one person brings me my sunshine,
dirt and a dash of rain with a few bees to spread my love and pollen.
I'll stay violet till I'm all the way up and my beautiful pedals stop dragging on the ground so the bugs will stop munching on me.
See I'm sorry if you don't understand my metaphorical mind, it's just all things need love to carry on.
I'm a violet rose that refuses to be red due to the fact red represents love.
Why can't love be equal like
'what's a queen with out a king,
if they don't feel the equal amount of love and the sting,
neither is higher so both must equally bring.'
Us men should have a little respect from the women that break our stems,
Take our peddles for faith and games,
Steal our thorns to be stronger.
See this is why they ask, why. Can't. Men. Love.
Because our rose is in 3 pieces,
The thornless stem laying on the corrupted ground,
The thorns are nowhere to be found and the pollen is with a better more beautiful rose as they say.
The pedals disintegrated into the air as a myth that goes like.
'Once the rose has unfolded the last chapter of life it spreads it's love through the air to form a new bond in another beings life.'
But I simply cannot carry one anymore therefore I am the violet rose.

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