She sings a little song that no one hears
It’s only blood, she sings. It’s only blood
It marks a heart that beats for bloody years
A flower starts from just a little bud
The bud I have is ganja, bloodless green
Sativa flowers as Sativa knows
A song unsung like flowers still unseen
Without a purpose, nothing ever grows
A bloody song, a bloody little song
Unlike the green that grows to counter pain
I never found the place where I belong
Where loss is something more than not to gain
I’ll sing again a quiet little song
Perhaps you’ll hear it too and sing along.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 30th, 2023 at 2:28 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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