A weed now grows where

a flower, once stood.

Beyond the whispering trees,

in the abandoned woods.

A backdrop of fog, grey and white

pushing her forward

through the desperate night.

Stones at her feet where soil should lay

a breeze travels through,

lost, alone, thrashing

all in its way.

A weed now stands,

where a flower once dropped,

petals of pink

as she began to sink.

Her fragrant scent sits soft in the air,

before that day,

when she used to care.

Now her heart lays bare

as summer comes,

and autumn leaves,

as her world turns cold

and she grows old.

Too soft the wind told,

too pretty and bold,

a gift as precious as solid gold.

A weed now grows, strong,

its stem rooted and long,

she points her eyes toward

the struggling skies.

Remembering the soft pink

ebbs of time,

when all around things were fine.

She whispers on the moist white air

that life has never been fair.

A weed now stands where a

flower once grew,

her appearance has changed,

but her hearts still true,

for she is the flower

that you once knew.

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Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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