Mine bloomed from the heart
A precious bouquet
That I seem to want to give away
Each pluck leaves an open wound
Eventually stitched closed by the stem that’s been left behind
Once received I watch as the petals are blown away
Like dandelion seeds
Caught up in a strong gust
Once taken, they’re never taken care of
I guess their short lifespan isn’t enough motivation
But that doesn’t stop me from cultivating
I still keep the roses in the sun where the light is
But the shade came violently and turn them violet

How ironic you’re heart shaped too
Left in the winter unattended
To cold for the attraction of on lookers
Thriving when your surroundings have died
A beacon in the silence
Although clouds smear the sunlight
I still see you from afar  
No reds from roses firstly chosen
But blue
Will you now be picked
The many among the few
Or do your silent songs go unnoticed
Until the sun brings the red back into view