kevin browne

I cry A Flower In My Hand.

the sincere gesture that floats from my heart into hers
with the rejection, the difficulties of my love spiralling deep
I bear witness to the pain that causes my life to stutter
this beauty I desire in giving away most of my soul and being
fractured into taking the blows which somehow toppled over
then I say a prayer about the uncertainty of burning up inside
when she graces across the sublime thoughts that inject me
sacrificing a terror that drowns my broken heart into pieces
and float across the sky and taken into the distant winds
I cry a flower in my hand, dig deep and may the plant grow big
in which delivers the feelings that turned emotion into hurt, but why?
tearing away at my mindless destruction that clearly unfolded
in loving her, the teachings that were learned over and over
as I sat upon her star and hid behind the glint of moon
I cried myself another dream and this time it came true.