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A poem about flowers that isn't really about flowers.
Submitted:Aug 12, 2007 Reads: 126 Comments: 1 Likes: 0
Rose Season
Rose season's almost over, and
we're all a little older.
Nothing else is blooming
so we get a little colder.
You were the best thing
in this town,
now all that's left to do is
frown.
The other flowers just don't cut it,
you were of different class.
But if I pick your petals off
you're just another blade of grass.
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Other writing by November Winter's Monologue A Requiem For Modern Romance A Wolf In Priest's Clothing Butterfly (by November) My Inspiration (by November) Behind These Eyes
Romance, Heart, Poetry, Poem, Pain, You, Hurt, Sad, Life, Passion, Death, Hate, Broken, Heartbreak, Lost, Kiss, Girl, Forever, Me, Sadness, Break, Hope, My, Loss, Relationship, Relationships, Lust, Happiness, Boy, True, Beauty, Dream, Boyfriend