The Bad Things
the bad things are planted in winter
but they don't bloom until the spring.
i don't have that much ambition.
what i thought was pure affection
turned out to be another obsession.
i never learn my goddamn lesson.
i'm just a bobble head.
make me cry and my eyes turn red.
baby boy, your love is tiring.
and my brain needs some rewiring.
i need to know it's not all in my head.
Copyright © Evelyn Rose | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment