A Lonely Rose.

 
A lonely rose wilted, forgotten, forlorn

A gown of white satin did adorn

Now on the ground lying

Trampled on and dying


 

Ruby red in it's prime

In the background a chime

A celebration comes to mind

Now all that is left behind


 

A dead rose kicked aside

Not even it's leaves abide

But with thorns sharp and strong

To pierce the one who did it wrong


 

Bare feet come down the path

Suddenly feels the rose's wrath

Red blood stains in a healthy squirt

Even in death a rose can hurt

Sept 22, 2005

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Lila May Guptill (AKA) Lunaria