unstabletlrgirl
that inconvenience.
fresh outta fucks forever.
2 posts
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Text
Azalea looks like scattered light through an amorphous glass,
That bathes a certain spot on the floor with sunlight
She makes a messy strawberry bun look captivating
She makes this summer day look bewitching.
Not a damsel in distress, but always in a summer dress
With little flowers on them.
The talk of the town, the beauty applauded.
A typical woman, that gets glared on
A flower name, that rarely gets flowers.
A shoulder to lean on,
A lap to cry on
A ear to lend to,
Is all she has been.
A loving person, for the takers in the row
How much are you willing to give?
I wonder if Azalea knows,
How it feels to be loved.
How it feels to have a shoulder ,
A lap or a ear to trust.
I wonder if Azalea knows,
That being loved by someone doesn't hurt.
Azalea, is the word
That tries to be a sentence in everyone's life.
She is scrapped off, striked off Like incorrect lines
Crumpled and waiting to warm someone's cold hands.
If only she knew what she was worth
She'd leave this old town and its mess
Cause Azalea is a poem, written.
Waiting to be read by me again.
-Flowerface
©_falguni_
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