The rose to my chest,
A fragrant, renewed scent,
One of which I’m obsessed
Its vibrant, clear petals,
Dashing in the moonlight,
Beautiful crystals
Despite everything it
stands for,
What it means to the human race,
I relish its splendour
This rose; not
crafted by,
Our worlds mother nature,
But a genetic engineering high
No more is anything
natural,
No more can you find flowers,
Trees, brushes, nothing agricultural
It’s a fake world we
live in,
A glass world, kept contained,
Like bugs trapped in a jar,
No breath to be taken,
No holes in the lid
Suffocating
Choking
Smothered
Feeling like the ant
trapped,
Beneath your magnifying glass
Scorched
Scalded
Seared
Not from the sun,
Not from the light,
That shines upon
But from the sudden
realization,
That this world is no longer,
The planet of earth and sea