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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Phoenix Flowerdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: HisNameIsNoMore
    ASL Info:    28 - Male - Ohio
    Elite Ratio:    3.1 - 75/182/208
    Words: 349
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 536
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2187



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe Phoenix Flowerdots
    -------------------------------------------



    Was it the dawn...
    Beautiful-
    The color of that pink bloom; orange burst of life that inspired such an imploring face.
    Tragic in a way-
    Beauty confronting beauty; each falling victim to a similar fate.
    With in her grasp was the flower who shared a such a similar tale-

    To grow; be in a field of memories- Flowers like her- you see.
    Roots that weave; Roots that bound
    Petals that wilt; Petals that sprout
    Happy to be in eternity with others- No equal will ever be.

    In the winter...
    Allure-
    A swift and covetous grasp- How unknowingly blind to the shadows that loom behind-
    It would come and take all that the frost didn't claim-
    So stoic she remained; her roots clung tightly to hands pushing away-
    A better life growing on a window terrace- A royal estate.

    To see; feel separated from what made you be forever fun and free.
    Discarded as something flawed; Discarded as something wrong.
    Cut from that rounds that weave; Cut from the roots that bound.
    Tossed aside until another eye caught true beauty trying to flee.

    The final spring...
    Reception-
    Disconnected from what inspired once beautiful dreams- Her roots long for her so-
    Resting with in the palm of the second beauty one does see-
    That life and love can be- despite utter disparity.
    A flower is a meaningless gift of vanity-

    By now one can begin to see that everything is connected coincidentally-
    A flower given to a flower-
    Taken by the roots and displaced in order to gain admiration by the other flowers you see...
    Cut down when roots would drink from the poisoned well-
    Tossed aside and taken by a hand of a shadowy hustler and given to the goddess herself-
    The flower has died-
    Nothing but the cracked pink petals remain as dust returns her home once again.

    Ashes sink and rain comes- The next dawn it is obvious enough to see that despite a life of tragedy that beautiful flower rises once again to bloom that vivid pink.




    Submitted on 2010-12-23 19:02:28     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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