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Roses For Amelia
A rose blooms in the shadows of spring,
it is picked with love for her.
A prick of the thorn to show my love
One drop of blood to show I care.
A selfless gesture, the sound of loves beat;
shakes the ground and weakens my knees.
I would have held you till the last pedal feel
Not above you, shattered from grief.
Rest in peace my darling,
May heavens light be a blanket for two
When time comes for my rose to be picked
I will finally come home to you.
The rose I picked for Amelia
Lies in the dirt and withers away
The rose I picked for Amelia
She'll never see, I was one day too late.
Copyright ©
Vincent Howard
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