Roses

I put them down beside your grave, A wreath of roses, scent they gave, Alluring as the the water’s guile, Obscuring as the sinner’s smile, But nonetheless an earthly slave. Blooming, now, and blushing rose, False smile, wilt and decompose, Waiting till’ you turn your back, Colorblind to red and black, Beautiful, to hide the lack, Though that she saw and that she knows. Wishing that she’d never seen, Flower red as split between, Alluring now, the shadowed gift, Though grip the thorns and watch the rift, Cry like a child when hope exists, The gap bleeding to a steep ravine. Watching, as the years went by, Two strangers living the same lie, Hating memories of a love long gone, Both believing that they had moved on, What causes love will not respond, Their memories all in black and white. Years went by, she didn’t know, ‘til walking in the softened snow, Comes across the graves all lined here, Listening, without her ears, And at one she stops, and snow and tears, A broken heart that slowly froze. So she kneels beside the barren grave, With wreath of roses, scent the gave, Reminding her of lovely smile, Snow in hair, laughing, while, She sprinted love’s long, broken mile, Shattered, bleeding, though unscathed. April 29th, 2018