Rose of a Girl
The rose petals fall so swiftly,
as though they were made of the wind.
They tilt and they tumble,
as though filled with sin.
The dark color of it's velvet,
hides your secrets.
They fall to the ground,
secrets spill bit by bit.
Keep your tongue in check,
or you'll be stabbed in the back.
Secrets don't make friends,
but it seems you already knew that.
The rose is empty,
it's petals gone.
and like a play,
your curtains are drawn.
This poem is about:
Our world