a drop of dew hanging from it's petal.
so sad to watch it wither away,
as it makes its bed for it to settle.
no longer to have the freedom to sway.
slowly sinking towards the ground.
there in that very spot it will surely die
absolutely no hope left of saving it from this redound.
the dew falls as if this rose were to cry.
this once red, red rose is gone now.
nothing but its thorns hang from its sides and back.
some of us still dont understand how
such a beautiful red, red rose can turn to such a harsh and dark black
Copyright 2003 beginning_poet
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