I held myself together, in the rain washed
glimpse of spring with woe as a perpetual
The city is veiled with sangria shadows
and concrete flesh, where I did my best
to be unchanging. I was certain that I’d
never be here for nothing.
If memories were flowers I would plant
them everyday, await thoughts which I
know would carry me swiftly towards
Because I cherish my roots though home
feels like a vague reality and now the sky
is determined to shatter dream with ease,
knowing woe’s a perpetual visitor that
sticks around every spring.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Rommy invites us to contemplate ‘No Roots’ by Alice Merton.
Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads