His rose, a flame blown out.

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Answered by: Raynylla, An Expert in the Teenagers Today Category
This was a poem I've written

his rose

was me

i think hes playing in the garden again.

not knowing there are dangers

not knowing the consequences

he frolics, not learning lessons

not wanting to learn.

i couldnt expect them to teach him,

half the seed he sprouted from is gone

gone forever

someone stole it from the bag

when the gardner turned his back

in addition id cry

is she his rose

im red and i try to conceal myself with a blue sheet

to camaflouge

but i stand out like red velvet smushed on white clothes

i love him

is she his friend

he says his candle still burns bright

but does this mean hed like to be warm again?

does this mean shell make him warm.

make his mouth water

not ever let his flame dim

i blow up, i explode on those who do a RR on me

i chose all the wrong battles

i believe the things that lay in the dark

my mind is dark

he makes my life bright

not that "he" but the other He

the other he i drifted away from

now im on a cross section

cause im recieving so many wifi connections


that tell me his candle burns at exceeding temperatures

signals that say hes in the big leagues.

i cant answer them

all i can do is pick up the phone and press buttons

pretending to be a butterfly

his intentions arent great

they arent matching the other puzzle piece

something isnt right

is she his other rose

but that rose has many thorns many drops of blood

and bruised petals

but the past comes back and it shows my bruised petals

extinguished our flame

i try and try to straighten them up

but still the world is my oyster

the world i can show my true face to

i dont want this to be my true face

i want to take her petals and glue them on to my stem

i want to be her

i want to have her untouched petals'

maybe they wont extinguish flames

and tear off layers of pumps


is what i say.

i cant seem to straighten my petals right away

but i get on my knees

and pray.

and ask for help to get my petals straight

they were never straight in the first place.

theres so much id like to say knowing that he wont listen


knowing that shes the rock

knowing that his flame is still burning

why does he block the light of his flame

is it because of all the scratched candles around

dented and bruised by population

probably not

i cant see why anyway

these answers may never appear but what i do know is that its done

its gone

his candle burns and almost chokes me with the smoke

i take refuge in my inhaler and hope the smoke comes back

praying its real and not an illusion

all i can do is hope he straightened his petals

and realize that this flower was here.

Its time to be his rose

time to let go of the grudge

and hope its time to be warm

to grab the lighter

light it like a fire

like itself

i cant help but manipulate

and hope im innocent

through all

this will be a hard task but i could make it

time to rub off the negative charge

and hope one day i find a better flower

whose petals i can mend myself

whose troubles i can find helpful

full of mysteries

tonight i manipulate

stabbing the dagger in my heart

im tired of this solitare

im told to let go of the bike handles

but i dont want to listen because i cant steer

without my hands

but my hands are what did this is the first place

what got me here

hoping one day

i might be able to grab that lighter

flower thought it was rose

it wasnt rose

rose wasnt rose

rose has a flower

flower has a thing for rose

but im not sure how rose feels

rose has had many things with MANY flowers

rose doesnt care

rose loves her self

thats why i love her

i judged rose

and put a stamp on her forhead

thats the only thing i admit too

i dont even know rose like i know the back of my hand

but i threw her into a box

im sorry rose

and if you are the paddle, float his boat

until the candle is lit again

all i can be is his sunlight

to make him grow

`sincerely, his rose

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