I never prey on wounded roses
their petals half torn
and withering
their souls too steep in angst
and when I saw her eyes
liquid and melancholy
I knew that she was broken

somewhere along the way
mr. right was mr. wrong
and she hadn’t known the difference
but she knows now
and even now
she hopes to right the wrong
with the saddest song
a lover’s lullaby
singing herself to sleep
tears in a cappella
dreams that tame the pain

there she was
laughing for a while
crying for a while
with her girlfriend
and beers lined up
like drunken sailors
waiting to board a ship
to nowhere

there she was
saying , “never again”
again
and even though a rose
can only bloom once
I could have sworn that night
she hoped
to bloom again

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