“Roses” by Shawn Price

Her life spells out rough time, pain, and abuse,

So in her eyes everyone is out to get her…

 

Since hurt is all she knows

One day I brought her a rose,

And in full delight,

She embraced and gripped it tight,

Then as she bled from arms and cried a red sea,

She looked at me and asked “Why would you use these thorns to hurt me?”

My sweet jester turned to an ironic weapon,

Her misguided view on life caused her to miss my message,

That life ain’t so rough because there are a lot of things here almost a gorgeous as her

But the sounds of tears splashing stopped her from hearing a word…

 

I never meant to hurt her,

Neither did the rose…

 

The next week I saw her again,

With news roses at hand,

She said “Your gift helped soften the cold heart that has hardened,

And your rose let me start a garden”…

Posted on June 9, 2015, in Poetry Spring 2015 and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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