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In the breathing forest came memories of my youth,
Nothing more than happiness shadowed by the truth.
The rising sun pulchritudinous like the smile on her face,
Let me think of her once more of pure and simple grace. 

    In the center of the wood lived a solemn rose,
    Surrounded by a cruel weed which prohibited it to grow.
    The weed was not considerate only thinking of itself,
    Hurt the little rose not caring of how it felt. 

    Now the rose has grown up and overtowers the weed,
    Making it undernourished and causing it to bleed.
    Through tolerance and patience the rose has been well fed,
    And for the spiteful weed, he gained a brand new bed.

Glancing to the falling moon, I've realized what I've done,
I've killed my inner self by following the sun.
I only hope that things will change far before the end,
So that the enemy I have gained will turn to be my friend.

1989

Seventh Place
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 15 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney

Third Place
YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE, NO. 2
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS

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