Rose


Full. Proud. Strong.
Always standing tall as her flamboyant essence of life continuously rained colorful attributes over this undeserving Earth.
Everything surrounding her was in awe of the mark she left.
I being one of them.
Her presence a gift I no longer own.
For long ago she was once standing full and proud.
Her color depleted.
Her petals deteriorated.
Her life gone.
Sooner than she deserved.
Sooner than I wanted her too.
I carry her in my heart, she is a reminder of who I am, who was before me and who may come after me.
My Rose the world didn't deserve to have you and surely didn't have the right to pluck you.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem



This Poems Story

Death