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Friday, January 27, 2017


Unfurl, the red awaits,
Like a rose, 
Learning to bloom again

Yet so does the wisdom,
Patiently, it will come
After the rose has bloomed,
The flame is gone

The glass seems to break
The petals all fall of,
Yet this appearance.
No one seems to recognize

It is mesmerizing,
How often one sees,
That the sins of the senile
Were not sins but seeds

Seeds, for the future,
That would pave a path away
From the sorrowful hearts,
That ail our burdened home

Remember, the seeds are in you
Recognize you are naught but a seed
Naught but a sapling yet to grow

A Sapling that would do well,
To conform with a different tree
And a different seed

-Poem Fanatic

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