flowers in war.

by hiraeth   Sep 25, 2020

and you -

where light was bountiful,
free-flowing like geraniums,
you cupped your hands and
sipped the sun greedily,
spilling remnants for us
to drink. like a dry wick,
we usurp what we can.

preemptively we dig our own
graves and sleep soundly in it,
partially accepting reality,
partially hoping that six feet
under, there's something
to root towards.

like dandelions wilting in
slow winds, dreaming of
lush soils that weren't
fertilized by blood -

we let go,

we let go.


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Latest Comments

  • 1 week ago

    by Rania Moallem

    As write using an pen from outer space Mark. what a stunning poem. Natural born writer. I am touched by every word.

  • 2 weeks ago

    by Lost star

    This is a mesmerising poem, wonderfully written.

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Skyfire

    I would love to hear your inspiration behind this, should you feel so inclined to share in a DM. It's tantalizingly melancholy. Congratulations.

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Gracy Judith

    Beautifully penned. Congratulations! A well-deserved win!

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Mimi

    This poem is really powerful.

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