PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Rise from the ashes known as roses,

call me an asshole like i don't alreayd know this,

ask me all about my life, not friends just noses,

send a text a picture in your favorite poses,

that door closes and i'm stuck in a hallway,

no more keys, blunt burns in the ash tray,

who could have predicted she would betray me,

after all the promises she once made me,

at least she played me instead of passing me by,

she had two quarters, saw me and tried,

it's easy to die away when across state lines,

and if i were to drive while expired i'd pay the fines,

for one more time in the arms of a rose,

her face is a constant thought, no one knows,

every friend guesses i'm a plain slate, no writing,

little do they know i'm only waiting on my igniting.