Pricked By Love
Love has died, but I still try,
A bitter sweet love leaves a sting inside.
Your reasons for leaving were plenty,
As for me, I had so many.
You gave me beautiful roses of red,
Love hidden behind their meanings misled.
Sharp thorns have made me realize,
That a gift can come with a painful price.
My wounded heart it still beats,
It needs to have faith when it seeks.
When new love is found my heart will heal,
But his rose's thorns they attempt to kill.
In pain while holding them tight I bleed,
My heart is once again unsheathed.
Well-chosen tears falling from my eyes,
This time I wont let my roses die.
Vickie Hurtt-Thayer
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