Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Poppies On The Road

There are poppies peeking from the roads we used to go down,

beauty built from the blood that you spilled,

swaying with smiles in the sun.

They survived a cruel winter,

reborn in the cool spring air,

tattooed by your temper,

but still stunning,

sunning and smiling,

sharing their sweet secrets,

as I while away the hours in their shadow.

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