Magnolias
April showers may bring flowers
But the storms carry a far greater cost
When the daffodils drown and the tulips wash out
What will we place on the graves of the flowers we've lost?
I'm singing to myself in an empty ballroom
Dancing in circles on the spiraling floor
When the chandelier falls, will I dodge out my doom?
Or just longingly glance at the door
Echoes of past clues that I couldn't salvage
Damp, damaged and drenched in my own ignorant acts
Dry clean only, so it says on the tag
There's a prom dress I won't be getting back
In these days of exhaustion
I find it difficult to adhere to my authentic self
But perhaps we aren't meant to linger on these thoughts for too long