Poetry Maybe You Love Me Too

[Tartaglia]

sona's poem compilation

...they're actually just vents ​

 

[Tartaglia]

Flowers For You
[They're all for you]​

I've picked flowers for you
Fresh from my mom's garden
They look quite lovely
My friends think so too
Aren't they beautiful?

I've picked flowers for you
They smell really good
Much better than the fragrance
They sell for a high price
My friends swoon at the scent
Aren't they quite nice?

I've picked flowers for you
The petals now look kinda dead
Maybe its the fertilizer
My friends agree too
Aren't they pitiful?

I've picked flowers for you
They're quite thorny
They look quite poisonous
My friends can't see it
Aren't they deadly?

I've pricked my finger
Picking flowers for you
Digging out mom's garden
Until I came across bones and flesh
Maggots infest the soil underneath
Those flowers I picked
And they've burrowed deep in my skin

I've sold the flowers I picked for you
For nothing more than a penny
After you threw them at my feet
And turned your nose the other way
You didn't see the fingers I've pricked
Or my poisoned veins
The maggots that live beneath my skin
And the bones and flesh
That decorated my hair

The flowers I picked
Withered away
And so did I
You settled upon flowers picked
At a nearby crafts store
For five cents a piece
Presented to you with a silly bow

Now my mom's garden is a graveyard
Who knew what she buried underneath
As she grew those flowers
Maybe my friends were right
In agreeing that there was something wrong
With the fertilizer

I've stopped picking flowers for you
Maybe now you can pick me one
And lay it to rest
Upon a little mound of earth
With a rock that bears my name