Wallflower Poem

A poem about being lonely.

I know What it's like to be a wallflower, one that is never plucked

is it because of bad luck?

Alas, not even four leaves could change the tides

the world seems like a maelstrom so all he does is hides

tucked away watching waiting ever so  vigilant

looking for his rose without thorns

soft to the touch

one that would love him even though he is torn

like a dusty miller left undisturbed

this very fact leaves him perturbed

So all he can do is wait

until he has reached his fate

whether its deliverance

or to die alone as a weed

never to be plucked

never to have a seed

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems,

Reviews

[~]

I really liked the metaphor of the weed.. none wants to be with it, none sees any good in it, yet there is a reason why it exists. lonely plants and lonely people that breathe the same air, that hug the same sun each morning.. (gorgeous picture by the way - did you take it yourself?)

[nrbthe1st]

Thanks! Yeah, it is a self portrait. I was afraid that readers weren't going to see the vision I was going for with this poem, but you totally hit it on the head!

[~]

ouch.. i hope i didn't hit too hard kkkkiding :D

[nrbthe1st]

Not at all :)

[nrbthe1st]

I really appreciate the feedback! I have always been weary of sharing my work. A coworker told me about this site, and I thought I would give it a try.

[~]

:D i will come back when i am not so sleepy.. yawwnn. nice meeting you nor be the first :D