Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

I am a rose, My heart budding. My stem grows, My tears flooding. Refrain from touch, My thorns prickle. Just try to kiss me, Blood will trickle. Confine me to a vase, I will break free. I’ll burn you inside, As you did to me. I am a rose, My heart sheer. I am a fighter, My future is clear.

The walls around him are crumbling to ashes Grit clinging like disease to his eyelashes Sprawled on cement with his eyes fixated Drooling grimly, his pupils dilated The ceiling is beginning to cave But he has accepted that this is his grave For he traded his life for a bottle of rum, And this is the man that he has become. His breath so stagnant, it leads rats away At his sight, even the worms go astray All he longs for is a genuine kiss For he has never experienced divine bliss But as the venom wraps itself around his tongue He recalls the days when he was carefree and young And he washes it down with a poisonous sap As if it were pure water drizzling from an ethereal tap Never has he been so alone Never has he been off the throne Never has he it been so clear Never has he been in fear Never has he cared about anyone dear Never Never Never For he traded his life for a bottle of rum, And this is the man that he has become.

My blood boils through my veins, Bubbling ‘til it’s thick as dough. Thawed, frosted tears remain, Only sorrow left to show. An icy heart and hollow lungs, How can I even breathe? I recall those darling notes you sung, How smoothly I’m deceived. So let the sun caress my chest, While the rough gale eats me away. For life I’ve never had such zest, As sunshine morphs into dismay. I will wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow the ladybug will crawl on me, Tomorrow the truth will dawn on me. Tomorrow the past will leave me be, Tomorrow my wishes become reality. And the fervent blood will be erased, It will flow like a stream of silk. The putrid scar will go to waste, My heart swelled with honeyed milk.