Wandering With Words

Random musings of a reckless soul.


Leave a comment

My attempt.

https://wanderingofwords.wordpress.com/2014/04/25/which-poetic-form-are-you/

The heart bloomed

Like a rose ready to be plucked

Parched, it longed not for water

Only love was its thirst

And there it found

What it yearned for so long

Everything ever dreamt was

Put up as a crown

And life was perfect

Until he left

And remember

No rose ever wishes to be plucked.

Advertisements