StolenStolenSneak around the corner, avoid the guards.Fwoosh! Wipe your brow and continue down the alley.A quick swish of the wrists, A neck is snapped.A fate avoided.A locked window. Pick the lock after scaling the wall.Carefully, I sneak within. On my toes, I silently walk.Remove the pendent from its resting place.I feel the warmth of the gold heating to the touch, within my palm.Sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds, pearls, amethysts.All the jewels held in perfect place.I slip out the window, and in my placeLeave a Daisy upon the bed to prove it'd been my take.Daisies- the flowers of death.
DraggingDraggingSorrow is an anchor.It drags you to the depths.It's like moving to a new school,overwhelming and caged.Sorrow is anti-simulating;Stopping your motions and consuming you.It's moss on fruit,Turning what was once so humble,into decay.Sorrow is a parent,Who keeps walking,without a word
BloomingBloomingPlanted by spring the soil, soft.Nurtured by the water which is the love of others.Sprouting through their joy, begins to peep it's head.Soon blooms a beauty, smells so sweet.Petals soft as pillows, a white and pinkish splotch.The flower grows. The young has grown into something beautiful.'Twas not I planted in softened soil, but dropped upon the ground.I rode the wind of courage until some land I found.Nestling myself in deep, I hoped beyond hope I'd grow.But the love of others never came, so instead I cried. I cried, I sobbed,I brought the rain!And- later than normal, I came.I used my sorrow to nourish myself.Once in a while I was supplemented by a teacher, a friend.But I wouldn't bloom.Finally, one came along,"You're better than the rest. You have strength, and courage, too.I know you'll get through!"So I bloomed, and bloomed and grew and grew.I was a deepened crimson, from the blood I'd shed, but none the less,I grew ahead.