Original Poetry

Flower Beds

I was his favourite flower.
He cared for me with
every ounce of gentleness
and gentlemanly tenderness.
Why did he
pluck me?
And then a thought
occurred to me:
maybe I wasn’t the only
flower in his bed.
Original Poetry

Come Back

Nothing can
Really prepare you
For that feeling
When something
You care about
So deeply
Gets snatched away
From you.
Even worse,
Nothing could possibly
Warn you
For the emotional
You’ll experience
When something
You care about
Leaves willingly.
And it’s their choice.
To leave you
Standing in
The sandstorm
With an extended arm
Come back.

Original Poetry


It must take a significant lack of conscience
To know when someone is hurting on the inside,
And to break them down even more.
I think this certain person
Had no conscience at all,
Because you need to have one
To care at least a little.
At least now I know why
They couldn’t even pretend
To show even an ounce
Of love.
I guess they lacked a conscience
Full stop.