Rosetta -

Rosetta - Poems

A rose; this rose, rose out of the ground on an early mourning walk.
A rose; which rose? Icy silver and glass glare on this gloom of mourn.
What rose? The risen rose has been stripped of its innocent petal, and shrouds beneath coarse.
The rose is dead. It has shattered in mourning.
...

She covered her mouth when she smiled at cameras.
She hated her brother; and he hated her.
She got angry, blamed so-called trauma, but she knew otherwise.
But she never meant to cause any harm.
...

6: 58 am, and the sky is dark.
Look up, dog, look up at the sky.
The grass is wet, and there is light in the cracks;
The clouds cover up my life.
...

I figured we wouldn't make it this far.
Paddling along a river in the storm is a chore and a bore, so I think we'll let go here.
But it was nice to talk to you, and you were nice company;
Thanks for keeping me busy.
...

"Begone, my love, " He whispers with flimsy tears.
Oh what a girl he could love more.
She walks a mellow, ghostly walk
Towards his moonlit half-dead corpse.
...

It's quiet outside.
A car rushes by, and she holds her gown tight.
She wonders if she will ever remember this moment;
Life is short for now.
...

My candle melts onto my blanket.
The snowflake warmth speaks to me like a lyric, yet
others hate my guts and my poetry.
...

Look in the mirror.
I see a tear; tear; tear; tear.
Look in the mirror.
Look at me.
...

I see you in the window,
Green shirt, sharp eyes,
My first thought: 'Can't be,
You still aren't able to drive.'
...

I want to take up space.
What a useless thing to say!
I already take up space,
But not that kind of way.
...

Dreams of heaven, they lift thy pillow
Into the sky, with your gentle head.
My hell has held enough for now,
And my heel strikes a conclusion.
...

12.

Everybody around me is lying to me.
They're not telling the truth. Why does everyone assume I'm stupid?
I can see them do it, and I see them fail.
Why is it that everyone has fled?
...

Bryna is hurting, which forces her to write.
Bryna is waiting, which forces her to talk.
Bryna is death-oriented, which makes her emotionless.
Bryna is inexperienced, which makes her feel unseen.
...

14.

Free.
Freely running with the wind,
Flying past space.
Filling up space.
...

"Stay with me now!
I see you!
I'm going to catch you!
Tag: You're it!
...

If love is something one has to experience before knowing it,
Then I do not know what love is.
But if it is an observatory fact,
I think I know what love is.
...

We're free.
We're free from confined sleeves,
Jackets,
Boots,
...

Leave me be for a second, I need some space; air.
If you leave me be for a moment, I might rot.
This child isn't fully grown, so nobody leave her alone:
If she gets bored she'll cry. If she cries, she might rot.
...

She sits. She waits, my love, she waited for an hour.
It's not her fault his eyes gazed towards her.

Every single doe stared at her with either love or desire;
...

Look at the sky, Sivvy.
Isn't it stunning?

Did you miss your father?
...

Rosetta - Biography

A young poet who takes inspiration from the events that have happened in her life, and writes the world in poetic form; she looks up to the poets above her, (her favorites being Plath and Lowell) who inspire her journey. She then takes her previously written poetry and publishes it under the pseudonym of 'Rosetta'.)

The Best Poem Of Rosetta -

The Rose

A rose; this rose, rose out of the ground on an early mourning walk.
A rose; which rose? Icy silver and glass glare on this gloom of mourn.
What rose? The risen rose has been stripped of its innocent petal, and shrouds beneath coarse.
The rose is dead. It has shattered in mourning.

My rose is the love of my life; my name.
Rosetta, dearest, holds tighter within the death of our people.
What a harmless, meaningless, useless name.
"Rose." A rose. Which rose?

Snow petals fall onto mist covered ground, and now flashlights coincide with flickered matches.
The matchstick drops, and spreads quite like wildfire; hello? Can you understand me?
Is it possible to say so much without saying a thing myself?
Is anybody listening?

And with the water over the flame, my rose dies on a cold winter night, like I.

Rosetta - Comments

Rosetta - Quotes

Say yes to a second, and no to a century; please understand that you are enough.

Valentines day, Valentines day: All it is for anyone is a misery parade!

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