The Rose
Long long ago,
I was given a rose.
Tall,
Strong,
And beautiful.
Big,
Bright,
Velvety red
Petals.
I put it in a glass of water
And set it by my bed.
But roses don’t last long.
And soon,
The strong green back
Bent.
And the
Big,
Bright,
Velvety red
Petals
Hung limply and sadly
To the side.
But I wanted this rose to last forever,
So I tied a string
Around its stem
And hung it
Head down
From the window sill
Above my bed.
And it hung there,
Turning black
And stiff
And crisp.
Petals turned to crackly parchment.
Dusty and dead.
An effigy.
A sad reminder
Of the fading of beauty
And the need to let go.
I was given a rose.
Tall,
Strong,
And beautiful.
Big,
Bright,
Velvety red
Petals.
I put it in a glass of water
And set it by my bed.
But roses don’t last long.
And soon,
The strong green back
Bent.
And the
Big,
Bright,
Velvety red
Petals
Hung limply and sadly
To the side.
But I wanted this rose to last forever,
So I tied a string
Around its stem
And hung it
Head down
From the window sill
Above my bed.
And it hung there,
Turning black
And stiff
And crisp.
Petals turned to crackly parchment.
Dusty and dead.
An effigy.
A sad reminder
Of the fading of beauty
And the need to let go.