Dead Flowers
Once painted, my flowers died.
Suffocated by being born.
A thought to reality, I am born.
My heart left yours, I am me now.
The canvas, my backbone.
The colour, my skin multiple.
The depth, my new voice, hello.
Dead flowers born today, I am.
You are my creator, my god.
I owe you my depth, so deep.
This was once your thoughts.
My creator, you are my god.
The brush was your sword.
You painted me into life.
Now I give pleasure to all.
I brighten your every new day.
The true colours of creation.
Your truth lies hidden in me.
I am your talented Art.
That beats with every stroke.
Show me proud to every crowd.
Be proud, be happy, I am me.
Your thoughts and imagination.
The world admires each stroke.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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