Poppy Red Carnation | Yellow

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                                                 Symbolism🥀

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┊*.           *    ·                          #wvpcslamit

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They grow, from the mold on the dirtiest graves,

Red and alluring, and dangerous,

You catch glimpses in the corner of your eye,

As it's overflowing with tears.

You swallow the thorns of injustice and walk forth,

Ignore them, as you head to the grave,

For they're liars and cheaters and thieves, so you're told,

And you don't want your head on a stake.

Golden child, wears her chain as a crown,

Silent cracks from a boarded up window,

Golden angel that cries for a crowd,

Don't you wanna see, what was always there?

They grow in cracks on the pavement,

Red and soft, and temping,

You fall to your knees and you crawl,

As your blood eats away the cement.

They whisper pained lies, truths, you can't tell,

You have nothing to guide you in the dark,

In the corner of your eye you see red,

And you don't know if it's them or just blood.

Silver child drags her shackles along,

You run to escape from the truth,

Silver statue so pure and so strong,

In bloody red tears you'll drown.

Come closer, they say,

Red and scary, and welcoming,

Whisper your secrets,

Lick your wounds,

Wipe your tears,

But don't go back, when it's all done.

Don't pluck their hopes with endless 'he loves us',

Cause truth is, he loves you not.

Don't let them wilt and fade and fall asleep,

In a bed of poison thorns.

It all lasts a moment,

And then, a moment more,

And a moment lasts a century,

For those who dare grow old.

Paint them red,

Breathe your soul in them,

Make them immortal with your bravery,

Dripping red and hot and beautiful from your veins.

Crimson child, both dark and light,

She craves, the things she shouldn't want,

Crimson arrow cuts the sky,

You'll fight and win, if you step forth.

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Oops, my hand slipped.