I grew as a petal on a tulip,
Matured beyond the fruit on a tree,
Slowly fell as the earth called
Me down to its arms to be.
Motions waved past the stale,
As my thoughts grew impaired,
Lovely songs echoed in the near
As figures stopped and glared.
standingonmadisonave posted this
An interpretation of poetry, as written by my blackberry.
