Overdrawn Flowers
the world turns to
chalk dust at your
fingertips
it's the last tree in the forest
the world needs
a cradle of beliefs
and
an inch of scorn
to write with chalk
on paper
we all fall but
maybe death wants to die
too
falls an avalanche of words
tadpoles become
birds fly like watercolours
in the sky there are angels
bringing death
and the overdrawn flowers still remain
the overdrawn flowers remain
they still remain
they shouldn't still remai
Light spills from an underground window, its mind lost in all that is past.
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Overdrawn Flowers, which
was posted on Feb 5, 2012 by
Ratt9.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"Another rather abstract poem that somewhat goes along with Ashes on the Pendulum..."
This poem is filed under:
Abstract, Blank Verse, Word Play
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