My Rhyme
Roses are black.
Violets are dead.
Love is bitterly sweet.
Like a shot to the head.
They say love will kill you.
It will be the slowest form of suicide you've ever met.
Copyright © Elizabeth Lindsey | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment