Every Tiny Flower

Gus Jonsson

Sep 9, 2025

1 min read

Survival lingering in a long song of sadness

Sang from shattered voices

The world watches, taking pleasure in the carnage

A mother’s lullaby rises above sirens

All hope is outlawed

It takes root in the ruins

Tomorrow love will still grow wild among the ruins

Every tiny flower a testament, each stem a defiance

Recent Posts

See All

Reflections

Stop dwelling in the past they say, it’s tiresome and dull Maudling, filling your day with memories of yesteryear Thoughts cobwebbed by the sepia moments of who I used to be The past is not a comfort

Why is Friday Different?

Why is Friday different ? The feeling more appealing, comfortable It’s not as though I have a job to attend Superintending or bending minions into line No clock to face, no polished shoes to shine No

Rosalind

Rosalind Tomorrow, tomorrow, always tomorrow Tomorrow is waiting long, gilding our window pane Losing the night upon the fringe of morning Memories of your laughter ring through my dreams Scattering

Comments