Piercing My Sadness
Through pale of eve, my eyes can see
beyond the trellis where I stand
a rose awaits, brushing the ground
through pale of eve, my eyes can see
needles of thorns ,calling for me
where tips of sadness purls around
through pale of eve, my eyes can see,
beyond the trellis where I stand.
While on the branches, heart’s thorns dry,
as if to pierce my faint lament
this lonesome rose tried to reply,
while on the branches, heart’s thorns dry
to face the night we said goodbye,
the day he kissed my cheeks and went
while on the branches , heart’s thorns dry,
as if to pierce my faint lament.
Every Rose Has Its Thorn... Kelly Deschler
new poem nette onclaud
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