Weeds and FlowersA Poem by AlyssaI lay here on the sheets of my bed, Thinking of who my true freinds are... Who is real, loyal, who would be there for me. Who isn't selfish, insecure, or nieve.
Only a few faces pop up like blooms of a flower. They are bright wild colors in my life. These colors make me smile and feel loved. Why does one flower look dull? You don't know how to be a friend if you tried.
I tell you, but you never understand, ever. The petals rising, the smell devine. You are sunken and bitter, do you even care? No.
You let stupid things get in the way, stupid f*****g things. You don't even see, your thick self absorbed head will never see. Your changing... what the hell happend? I don't get you anymore, we don't think the same things, we are a different species. You are no flower to me. You are a weed. An ugly weed growing into something terrible, something much worse. This weed must be plucked if it keeps growing this way. But of course, you haven't got the slightest clue what you've done. There are far more important things to worry about other than your best friends right? Clearly to you there is.
© 2009 AlyssaAuthor's Note
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14 Reviews Added on April 14, 2009 Last Updated on June 9, 2009 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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