Of Crushed Velvet
Run, darling, for the garden waits.
Run through the yard and enter through the gaits.
A world full of wonder, a world that is pure.
White roses will be your poison and your cure,
For they will protect you and shelter your soul,
But white roses will keep you lonely and whole.
They’ll hold you from age, a gift that would stun,
For no god could grant us the wish to stay young.
White roses will assure you your childish views.
Your fascination with simplicity you’ll never lose.
Yes, this is thrilling, flawless at first,
But, my child, white roses do carry a curse,
For abuse of the rose will keep you too clean.
No moment in time will you regret or be mean.
You will be the sweetest soul to walk the Earth,
But, for what kindness means, you know not what it’s worth.
You must learn in time through the evils that lurk
Exposure to darkness and see how it works.
With age, my child, white roses turn red
From the sweat and tears and pain that you’ve bled.
You must run from your garden as I do from mine,
But be not afraid to return over time.
Dearest, you’re so young now. Enjoy what you need not know,
For, with age, your will learn. In time, you will grow.
White roses remind us of our once-virgin eyes
That only saw the garden, saw truth, blind lies.
Innocent you are. Enjoy it while to lasts,
For childhood will soon be left in the past,
But, if in need of reminding that there’s good in Earth’s doom,
Return home to the garden, where white roses bloom.