The Flowers Are All Dead
The color of the poppies fades to black
under frost's bright and brittle hand.
A touch, a snap, and they go slack
and the color of the poppies fades to black.
It seems so cruel, and you try to wrack
your brain, to try and understand
why the color of the poppies must fade to black
under frost's bright and brittle hand.
((This has been an angsty visit to
Seed's Poetry Corner. Go there for less angsty poems.))
D: I like iiit. <3 -- Dannii
-- Dannii <3
Thank you <3 I'm bad at
---
Click My Creatures Please!
Wanna meet at old oak?