Let it Grow
I found a pot on my windowsill
A tiny flower growing
Who placed it there is still unknown
I watch it grow, lost in dreaming
A pure white land, filled with voices screaming
I step on in, hope to help
Swallowed by cotton wool
I recognise the voice calling
It’s time to wake from your world of dreaming
Turn back before you are lost
The flower scent, a warning meant
Tell him now, you’re not the kind of girl
You hold for one night only…
© anita dawes 2020
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