Primroses

I sit here, at the edge of the fountain,

wading my fingers into the pool.

surrounding me, are the bright colors,

of the only things that are not cruel.

The primroses, they speak softly,

and they say what I need to hear. 

And yet, I still sit here waiting,

for something that will bring me cheer.

Without this garden, I would suffer,

more than anyone would know.

But here, I have sustained myself,

here, the only place I go.

And even with the colors dancing, 

gloriously taking flight,

I feel as if the sorrow faced,

is unmatched for only a sight.

So, as I lay within the fountain,

holding firm a final grin,

All I see before the darkness,

Are primrose petals in the wind.

Author's Note

Personally this is one of my favorite pieces (as I haven't posted everything I have written yet), but I need to here what other people think. Don't hold back!