Flowers

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My emotions are a field of flowers, always changing with the passing of hours.

In spring they begin to sprout, curious of whats to come and filled with doubt.

In summer there filled with light from the sky above and seem to radiate joy and love.

Come fall, the leaves turn orange and pedals fall, and as the sky turns to gray, my happy memories seem to fade away.

In the dead of a cold winter night, I stare at a empty field with not a flower in sight. Tears have been shed, lies have been said, and on this cold winter night my spirit lies broken and dead.

So cut me down, throw me around, crush my emotions into the ground. Drive these flowers into the floor, but come spring, these flowers bloom once more.





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