botanical beauty; bought for the loved,
lovers, a boy and a girl.
simply exchanging glances, perhaps kisses:
but if hearts- they'd be plucked out and torn apart.
aroma: fragrant, so gentle but deathly
just like a soldier who prays for compassion
and redemption; bravery or stupidity?
either way he is lost in the soil of warfare.
just a 'flower', isn't it?
found in your nearest supermarket, on sale
$2 for a bouquet that is supposed to symbolise love.
it's value- worth it. because our love shall wither away.
they lie around here, somewhere- rotting and dying like our love:
because when i touched them, broken promises
poison me, stung me.
because roses are grown to be plucked.
roses are thorns- just like we were.
from far away- tender petals of innocent love
grown in pure soil. but it's roots were knives
in fact swords, that tore our love apart.
That's good❤️👌