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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2155209
Something I wrote while having someone on my mind.

The way these roots do err to succumb

To the gentle ministrations and words

Leave me barren in this zero-sum

Scatter my seeds to the circling birds

Oh, the voice from yonder lips

Not as soft as the heart within

Yet still at my armor it chips

Would you indulge me with a sin?

But chin tucked low and eyes held high

I climb to where you gaze for a glance

When I should be lifting it to the sky

I fumble upon paper stilts for but a chance

See me, as I see you, I plead

But no, your spurn is what I earn

This husk, not the shoulder you need

Too old to change, too stubborn to learn

You are the winter bloom

The precious beauty in the cold

The life in sullen room

Catalyst from meek to bold

Your fragile petals in frost do move

This petrified hollow to yearn

For that lost art once dubbed love

And hope it lies beyond knoll or turn

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