MusingsPoetrySad Poems

Purple Rose

Eerie night, flashes from strangers
He sits on a log, his tongue bridled
He wonders why
these flashes don’t find him
He beckons on this light
but it won’t find him.
distantly, his ears pick up whispers
These whispers eerily call him in
They tell him they’ll comfort him
They tell him he’ll be safe
They tell him they’ll wrap him,
in their cold arms,
and keep him warm

Then, aid in hand, a wild one comes
stringing the strings of her heart
she plays him a tune, but he doesn’t get it
if he got it, he doesn’t understand it
she doesn’t understand him too
she hands him a purple rose,
she tells him to have faith
he wishes she’ll sit with him, longer
but, she doesn’t get that, she walks on
he sits in the dark, watching,
listening to the eerie whispers
waiting, he hopes another wild one
comes along with a purple rose

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