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Take this rose as its thorn cuts my hand

And bleeds the words that are in my heart

That I wanted to tell you, I am yours

I can only describe the blank stare you had

When I recited that poem about yr eyes

How blue they were in my memory

As you didn’t want to be noticed

And when the rose died; so, did my heart

You took and threw it in the compost to rot

For it was the only thing I had left to offer

As the words flew away

It was return into another rose

Published inLove

One Comment

  1. Emotional states and connections are often thorny roses which is a suited link to words and poetry from the bleeding inflicted by the thorns.

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