The rose

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Nature
    • ,
  • Life
    • ,
  • Death
    • ,
  • Sadness
    • ,
  • Loss

    The rose

     Standing unbroken and beautiful, thriving as it should.
    Velvety red it spreads the emotion it congers within the garden walls; its perfume light and lovely, permeates the grounds.
      A shadow befalls it and the utensil of tis demise cuts deep into its side severing it from its life source; pain coursing through its body like deadly venom, it falls.
      Cramped and humiliated, they huddle awaiting their final demise; when the blackness befalls them for the last time and they are no more.

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    JenWolfe commented on The rose

    06-27-2010

    I love this poem, very beautiful, it paints a picture so well, life and death of a rose thanks Jen
    Reply to Comment

    Ariel

    06/27/2010

    thank you I really appreciate it.

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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