A poor prince born into
A shell of feminity
A prince of roses
Yet he can hardly keep
Plants alive
He had a rose bush
That he took care of
It was his pride and joy
In a way
He collected fake flowers
Since they couldn't disappoint
Him
They wouldn't die, they wouldn't wilt
They were immortal in all their
Beauty
Exactly what the prince envied
So he controlled the vase of
Fake flowers
Cloth and plastic
Not
Flesh and blood
He wished he could become a
Fake flower or a teacup
With roses
So he'd be deemed to fragile
To do anything he'd just be
There for beauty
That'd be sad though
He's to blinded by false hopes
To realize that wouldn't happen
Nor would he be immortal
I am the king of fake flowers
YOU ARE READING
Blood Rose || A Collection Of my Poetry: Pt. 2
PoetryA whole bunch of my poems since like 2021 also the reason its considered mature is because most of the poems are very deep and/or triggering yes I did copy and paste the description from rose thorns but changed the year (Quick thingy the series migh...
