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Showing posts from October, 2017

The Red Rose

The meadows uptown borne a single plant That longed to grow a flower. When to all others, God did grant, That single plant never flowered. He looked at the others and said to himself "Maybe I was supposed to end up this way". And withered turned his heart with him The once green leaves turned to look like hay. But one morning, the plant woke up to see A bud in his hand, his leaves all green. He knew not what it'd turn out to be Nor did he know his joy would cease. The bright red, the beauty best Woke the plant the next day. For the bud in his hand turned the rest To a shame, a red rose she'd turned A red, oh so red, lovely rose. The truth of life nor the pain of dead He knew not of anyone of these devils. He said "I have her in my hand And forever I will keep her in my fable." Days went by and months rolled along The lovely pair seemed not to worry about the time go by. The rumbling of death not away long Was nothing to be be afraid o