Look at the hands striking the clock

You time has emerged
A young dawn like grass of midnight
Blood born in veins through the poppy pain
Will bloom like the roses in your garden
Those roses for which you know
Are hearts transplanted of a moment choked
They open up to you in a smile
They leaf alike call your hands into the growth
And you by the window
You who hasn’t lost the hearts as yes
You cry into the night
With the time cracking from behind a built in panes
Towards you
Why

©Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!