Rose
I told you I was crazy, I told you I was insane, but you didn’t believe me.
Until the day I poured dark rain, I thought it looked pretty.
It was so nice, I thought it would be fun, but you got scared.
You were so unprepared, you saw it pour down the slits, through the big and small ones on my wrists, all the way past my finger tips.
On my chest and on my neck, beaded with jewels of red, you scream and look really scared.
I tell you not to be and to look over there, a rose so dark as blood was on the chair.
It was my last gift to you, it was my last vision for you.
When I started to lose air, I hoped you would cherish my gift to you because now I must say goodbye.
And begin something brand new.
~A.R.M.~
About the Creator
The broken Poet
I write lots and lots of poetry and had no place to ever put it so mabey I'll put it all here?
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