Poem about giving up the pen?

Question

I was thinking of just giving up on poetry, beginning to feel that nothing I wrote amounted to anything. This is a repost from last night since Yahoo wasnt working

Blue Rose

Blue Rose illuminated

By an alabaster moon

You rose timidly

Growing amongst weeds

Midnight black

An unconscious sway

Words fell like raindrops

Upon your veins

Absorbing the flurry

Your petals unraveled

Exposing your center

Of delicate folds

Such an unusual beauty

Yet your hue was off-putting

Not like sun stained roses

Other look on in wonder

Your head of petals fell

Straining your stem

Exposing the strings

That loosely held you

And now you lay

Blue rose-dying

With your indigo tips

Painted brown-slowly curling

The air whips a sting

Your petals lay shrinking

Breaking off easily

Like a wing from a fly

You couldn’t sustain it

Your nectar spills

Bitter pools gathering

Like tears behind eyelids

Answer 1

I love your poems-don't even think about giving up!  This is a visual delight of images in graceful procession, like a lovely slow motion film.  There is such beauty in the images themselves and together they create the story of the life of the blue rose. I love the way it blooms in the night, and by the light of day its life is over. Absolutely stunning.  Thank you.

Answer 2

awesome description of the life and death of a rose

Answer 3

"Hi!"

Great display of images from a talented writer.

Do not quite the blue rose ink pen. I love your poetry and how you create colors out of blackness. I have never seen another poet be able to write sad poems in such creativity.

please keep on writing.

Cheers. : )

I had left a message on your previous post. I wasn't going to leave a message on this one, I was only going to star it. than I realized you may not go back into your previous one to see my comment I sent you.

Cheers again from the land of Aus (Oz) Good Night : )