Pellinore
05-28-2008, 05:09 PM
Yet another poem, don't know if it is good, some reply and critics would be nice.
Yesterday,
In this cowfield,
There was a flower,
raising for the sun,
Deep blue were its leafes,
Deeper then the sky.
I was fascinated,
by its cold beauty,
in a sea of green grass.
Standing out,
higher then everything else.
I took the flower, i took its beauty,
I give you this flower,
Its leafes are brown now,
I took its life away,
I stole it,
just to show it to you.
Now its death, rotten.
Destroyed proud.
Murdered beauty.
I will find another flower for you,
but none of them will be the same as
the flower i killed.
Sorry my dear flower.
Yesterday,
In this cowfield,
There was a flower,
raising for the sun,
Deep blue were its leafes,
Deeper then the sky.
I was fascinated,
by its cold beauty,
in a sea of green grass.
Standing out,
higher then everything else.
I took the flower, i took its beauty,
I give you this flower,
Its leafes are brown now,
I took its life away,
I stole it,
just to show it to you.
Now its death, rotten.
Destroyed proud.
Murdered beauty.
I will find another flower for you,
but none of them will be the same as
the flower i killed.
Sorry my dear flower.