Ooooh, I remember this one. It’s about someone I considered a friend who would ask for my help constantly, which I gave to her gladly, but when I needed a friend she wasn’t there for me. Instead, I would doodle flowers in my notebook to soothe my anxiety.
January 2019
Doodle Flowers
Softly they bloom
Somehow they soothe
Those little flowers
Like little sprites
Working their magic
Isn’t it tragic?
The need
from a friend?
.
.
.
.
Note:
Photo is of the doodle flowers referred to in the poem. I remember flipping to a random page to fill with flowers just to occupy my hands and mind. I don’t remember why I was stressed or what my “friend” refused to help me through, but I remember the flowers.