ROSE BLACK
ROSE BLACK
Passing here
I chanced a rose
Sadly stilled
Her will to grow
Her petals feared
The touch of those
Who wanted more
Than She could show
She shunned the Sun
Bowed Her head
Her thorns warned
A scratch of red
She'd not be sheared
For bouquets thrown
Braided wreaths
The honored dead
She wanted life
As She so chose
To love and grieve
Black
As a rose
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