Delicate flowers,
Fragile daisy chains
You pluck the petals of my soul,
Love me, love me not.
Give me your latest excuse
I’m cold and I’m listening
Your words are dying embers on this fire
And I’ve been trying to keep warm
This winter has been a long season my dear.
Promises and flowers perish
In the cold chambers of you
But flowers have this charming
Way, of sprouting when the
Cold is never ending.
I’ll learn to love again,
as sure as flowers
in the springtime.
K. Thwaites