Saturday, October 4, 2014

The Death of the Flower of Love

If your heart is a volcano how shall you expect flowers to bloom in your hands? ~Khalil Gibran

She watched him real close
still lost him you see
pushed him far away
thinking what business had he
spending his time
on anything but me
this was the main thought
of her jealousy

Well he'd done it again
watched a game with his friends
why would he do that
it drove her to no end
he ought to be home
there's no reason to go out
a tantrum should cure this
followed then by a pout

She was like a volcano
he could stand it no more
it was time that he left
she had a fiery core
her heart wasn't soft
their love couldn't grow
still he loved her like hell
but she just didn't know

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