I step inside the yellow tracks with red roses
Only be shot down with bruises,
Until I saw,
They were more like stained teeth than blossoms.
Hopping in and out of merry go rounds
To find perspective,
Ever searching for a fuller picture
While it fades in my hands like a photograph.
Yet smiles and joy and glee ensues
The ever loving sadness.
Meeting so many of these Petals, one day to be closed
Breathing as a Flower,
Simply happy to have ever opened.
If you liked this poem then I’d recommend checking this post too! Much love. x
Photography by jano gepiga