Father bought me flowers
But they don’t bloom the same
They squint weirdly and
Ask me questions about which
Direction blows the wind.
They sometimes whisper
In my ears, but
It tickles so much!
When I tell my friends
They stare at me till I’m
Sheepish again, retracing my steps
With a staggering confidence
And an awkward laugh.
These flowers they wiggle
On windy days, their breathing stiffens
When I try to pick them
And keep close to me
My friends that seem to
Be always be stuck bedridden.

Father bought me flowers again
I asked him why, he smiled and said
New flowers smell better
But I told him I liked the old ones more
For they knew me like no other.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s