The Flower
I try to be good,
but recalcitrance like a flower
blooms in my hands,
which have turned from flesh to wax.
My sense of right and wrong wanes.
Delinquence stems
from lack of conscience,
pushing you to your fall.
Copyright © Jackie Chou | Year Posted 2019
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