by Unknown
Aug 2011 353 Views 0 comments
the rose
the stealing of a rose,
it pricks,it pose.
stolen pick for love nodoubt,
your sincerity is allowed,
stolen pick to die wither and fade,
......black as spade.
it pricks,it pose.
stolen pick for love nodoubt,
your sincerity is allowed,
stolen pick to die wither and fade,
......black as spade.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
just thinking about roses i have given out to loved ones, and when it was over ,well the rose was long gone.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
No Comments Yet
More Poems
Winter's Silent Beauty
For You
A journey into Tomorrow.
War!
IMAGINE - FINAL PART
Truthfully life with no vision!
More Poems
Report Abuse for this page, if inappropiate