The Flowers Have Gone
Flowers are growing down my straightened spine
They wrap right around every vertebrae
And make me feel like I will be just fine
Even on the most horrible of days
They make the stars in my dull blue eyes shine
When I'm driving too fast down the freeway
They'll slow me down and make me raleigh
So that by chance I do not fly away
Flowers do not grow down my crooked spine
They didn't quite fix every vertebrae
How could I possibly think I'd be fine
I don't think I can handle one more day
I just poured myself a tall glass of wine
And decided it's time to drift away
This poem is about:
Me