Picture Prompt Poetry IV

Sometimes, dreams can become scorched sun flower,
We burn too hot and snuff our gun, flower.

We crave for light but can’t handle the heat
Darkness exchanged in place of a ton flower

The tapestry of an amateur art
Colours that once looked like fun flower

Of yellow, to orange, and then to black
A trilogy about a won flower

I, Vera, once craved for beauty and sunshine
This story is about that one flower.


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