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Death of a rose.

You'll never understand, You fail to communicate!
The day is a waste, You seek the weak & depredate!
I'm always kept in the dark,
You've kept what you want from me from the start!
Proven you don't need me, Yet I try to wait patiently,
But it's a virtue, Waiting for you to want to see me,
'Cause I long to love you! But you don't give a f#ck!
She is yours so have her, I do give up!

Lately my mind has been far from healthy,
Still I get your hints,
Sitting here on our bed Chelsea,
Starring at the rose on the wall where it sits...

It's one of those, can't stop crying, life blows!
Running eyes, running nose,
The hurting inside is what no one knows,
Running from life & the truth shows,
Hiding the lie's that no body knows,
All the arguing steadily grows,
To fighting which rapidly explodes,
To the death of a beautiful rose...

This life blows!
It's so f#ck!ng hard to live with a mind so scarred!
It's not worth all the pain or to live & be enslaved!
I don't want it any more I never asked for this!
I don't this any more I never asked for it!
I can't escape, bringing a rose to it's fate!
Up side down, red to black, discolored face...
This life blows! but "god" knows the touch I love so much!
As she blows on me I can't get enough!
Must live for, savior, a goddess of pleasurable trust,
I can't get any deeper, still I thrust!
She brings me to my knees,
So rough!
Full of lust!

Blow on warm sweaty skin,
Cool the fire burning deep within,
Moan soft whispers in my ear,
Your breath on my lips,
Your sweetly endeared!

...even though, all I know of you,
what you've shown, that your prone to...

Seek to depredate on the weak,
In the depths of despair,
The deepest innermost part of pain,
You harm the host, with a warm welcome,
Forth bringing perdition,
You're recklessness & cruelty,
Detach me to despair,
You are the one,
You have ruined me!
And the rose,
Which once was,
No longer there,
It's spot,
Up side down,
On my bed room wall,
And oddly enough in that moment as I stare,
I watched our rose,
Fall through the air.

Death of a rose.
Austin J. Frick
Age Of Reason Is Now
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
About this poem:
Once upon a time a boy bought his lady roses, she forgot them. She let them die. So he bought her more, but she ignored, so he cut her more, with thorns in his fingers torn from the scissors the blood red roses showed his lover his love for her is as forever! So as a symbol the 12 new freshly cut roses were immediately hung up side down to the wall around their bed. But even that beautiful dead rose couldn't impose decay.

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