The Rose

I see it there, a beautiful rose,

though now only a tiny green bud shows.

It will slowly blossom into an elegant flower,

that represents love on the midnight hour.

It’s lovely petals so delicate and thin,

as a young girl’s heart not so easy to win.

It’s thorns draw blood with the prick of a finger,

as a heart bleeds with pain that seems to linger.

It’s fragile leaves are easily torn apart,

as love can mend or break someone’s heart.

How can something so beautiful

suddenly be withered and black?

As a heart aches from words that can’t be taken back.

Why is it a rose represents a love so strong?

When it is suddenly wilted, dead, and gone.

- c.s