a dark flower blooms
like black ink upon the petal of a rose
deep within my chest
where my heart
should lie to you but i can’t;
your love for me so sweet,
such like i wish upon myself
before i lie in
my grave will surely be marked
by all who misunderstood
my happiness, my confidence,
that was all bravado
and darkness
This was haunting, Linda and calls for reflection on what we mean to do with our lives. Warm hugs. ❤
Thank you. I’m glad you saw that in my poem. 🙂