A Rose without water withers;
when hot summer lights
on its delicate, bedewed petals,
the flower dries in a trice
A man, validation without,
grows in many a way the same
crumpled, lacking, hardened, slacking,
until one waters his disused name.
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Author:
benevolentbluebabe (
Offline) - Published: July 11th, 2020 10:13
- Comment from author about the poem: People need a bit of tenderness now and again. We cannot go on living life as a hardened, weathered stone. I tried to live that life, and, in the end, all I had to show for it were a few tears and busted knuckles.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: DianeKey6
Offline)
Comments1
may love bloom forever
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