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Forget - Me - Nots
Forget - me - nots
of periwinkle and wry,
cloister the devotional
I do ably present to her.
Such talk of perfection
in the common sense,
but, a flaw from brilliance
is what plays my hand:
Of character traits,
untried and untrue.
Of grievances,
left unspent.
Of unspoken words,
and a hushed silence.
Of the pitch,
supplanting the luminosity
of good fortunes.
Of chaos,
dear and deficient.
Of the gander,
vexed and probing.
Of the waxened spirit,
emptied from turmoils.
That,
which is mannered bluntly
in truths,
is what flutters my veins,
and forget - me - nots
so remembered,
to be held precious in value,
buried deeply,
in confidence,
in breast of mine.
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Forget - Me - Nots
Forget - Me - Nots
