Julia W

Father

My father is a flower, and he grows about without me. He grows from a different sun, and drinks from a different rain. All though we are under the same sky, he stands so far away. My father is a bird, one that fly’s on alone. His head in the clouds and his wings on the ground. I am a bird, flying close behind,
But I am made of the ocean and the stars, while he is filled with the grass and the trees. He is a promise, one that’s never kept, a world that’s drenched in colors, bleeding rain out of its hands, but has never learned to feel. My father is a flower, one that’s stems are turning grey. His petals are all people, who will one by one forget his name. But dear flower, I am a petal too, who is to grow beside the purple soil, and watch as he forgets of me. I have swallowed a bottle of sunlight, and sung to you all the songs of the rain, but still you don’t notice me, maybe I am still not bright enough, or my voice not loud enough. My father is a flower, one with the world inside his chest, one that’s thoughts claim to know of mine. But darling flower, reminisce in the words I speak, when they say that you don’t know a thing.

I love your use of personification, it's impeccable and it flows so nicely. Keep up the great work!

But darling flower, reminisce in the words I speak, when they say that you don't know a thing.Love it! Sweet throughout and the last line a banner of self worth... nicely done!

i have a feeling young lady that ultimately your poem may be right-we are what we perceive.sweet words that speak gently from what you are, that even you don't know, nor i.

Thank you so much! I looked at your work as well, your poems are beautiful!

Thank you, what a nice thing to say :) Looking forward to reading more of your amazing poetry!

Yeah, agreed with completely. Absolutely sweet, and beautifully written. Poignant in it's sense of disappointment, and despite the lovely words a very removed sense of pain. A favorite of mine for sure.

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