The Red Phase Is Over The red phase is done, The bright days have passed. We shared so much joy, But those moments won’t last.
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Her red sunsets fill the sky, Bright as her day says goodbye. Soft light glows, the day ends slow, In this beauty, she feels the glow.
The red flowers, a photograph dear, Hold onto memories from a time once clear. A gift from an ex, frozen in frame, Bright petals remind her of love and pain.
Her hair glows bright like autumn leaves, In shades of red that the sunset weaves. A fiery crown upon her head, Each strand a story, softly said.
Her eyes were green, shining bright, Filled with jealousy, day and night. Now they are red, full of pain, Anger and hurt pouring like rain.
In the quiet fold of dusk, she—a flower in bloom, delicate and inviting, he—a wanderer, drawn to her fragrant light.
By Rajesh Dhiman (Rajesh)about a year ago in Poets
Her Long Sexy Red Nails Her long red nails, a daring flair, Bold and bright, they catch the air. With every gesture, she steals the scene,
My Red Rose In the garden, bright and fair, Blooms a rose beyond compare. Soft petals like velvet, pure and bold, A touch of nature, a story told.
My Big Red Broken Heart Once so bright, it shone like fire, Now it's cracked, lost its desire. A heartbeat loud, but now it sighs,
My Red Door In the soft morning light it stands so bright, A bold red door, a welcoming sight. Painted with love, a brush stroke of cheer,
As night wraps the world in a silken shawl, She glimmers softly, enchanting us all. In the quiet moments, she finds her throne,
Her Fast Red Car Her fast red car zooms down the street, With every rev, the thrill is sweet. Wind in her hair, a smile on her face,
