Speaking of yellow flowers,
have I spoken of my favorite one?
All covered in sunlight
on the hill that I've won?
Not of un sunflower,
nor colored daisy,
is my yellow flower spun.
My flower yellow is an oddity,
you see,
full of malice
hidden in memory.
But few look cloesly,
and see,
the side that my flower,
That I see.
YOU ARE READING
*Ahem* Time poetry with Cremson.
PoetryJust ideas that pop up for me to share with the world. :)
