Your roses are for your love.
In roses there lies red.
In red is blood, carnelian soul; life, your life, a life you devote so diligently to
another’s; the colour of your ardour, the roses in their cheeks.
In red is the heart, your heart, their heart, the hearts you sold to another pair of
hands.
In red is the acrimony that flushes your eyes, your tongue; the tacit spokesmen of
yet to be hysteria, discord, poison on their voice and aftermath of lachrymose.
Silences.
A petal falls. You forget about love.
A rose withers; personification at its finest.
So still the night around her
As perfumed candles softly dance
To the breath of tears now falling
Upon the petals in her hands
Glistening drops of memories
Cascade slowly down her face
As she is taken back through time
To a once upon a place
Where once she was a dancer
Upon a stage dressed in his smile
And blood red roses were an offering
With hat in hand,he showed his style
A nearing stranger in the shadows
He faltered from the light
Tossing blood red roses
Then softly whispering goodnight
These moments were so long ago
Still they're etched within her mind
As trembling fingers caress each petal
Her heart,it falls behind
Seeing is believing
She knows now she must move on
Though beautiful memories remain
The blood red roses have all gone
Somewhere in the stillness
Beyond the beating of her heart
There cries a thousand roses
Blood red and torn apart
The bright red convertible
His midlife-crisis-mobile.
Traded his faithful pick-up truck
For newer wheels.
Traded his faithful wife
For not as new mistress.
Changing his life , he said,
Changing everyone elses too.
Trying to recapture a youth
He had only had in dreams.
Bright red convertible.
The midlife-crisis-mobile.
He should be happy now
But was he?
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