By Gabrielle Bowman

A violet for your thoughts 

A columbine for your hopes 

A Lilly for Luck

Well it seems I’ve been robbed of lilies 

Each violet is not my own 

But as madness overtakes me, columbines in my grasp flourish 

Mad am I like a wildflower

Pure as the days behind me

Where I wait for a love I’ll never know

For he’s been whisked away by a vengeance 

A mistress whose snathced not just his soul

But his smile

And I think she snagged mine