Depression Rose Poems

Her eyes look up towards the amber skies
In solemn prayer before the Sun dies

Only to live again a zillion times
Prayer is not for the Sun...

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For a grieving mother, pain goes the extra mile, it wilts her soul and destroys her smile. 

A burden so heavy as she carries that...

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Delicate petals in hues of pink,
Passionate scarlet, gold and ginger
Silently breathing, laughing
In the breeze with gentle impressions
Subtle whispers, notes so faint,
Beautiful blessings – swaying
The dance,...

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I rose like the phoenix

I climbed out of the abyss when I was at my weakest

Depression at its bleakest

I had to keep moving, I simply...

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He heard that she is poorly
Yet does her best to cope
Enduring life’s misfortunes
While clinging on to hope. 
She strives to beat depression
When winter’s hand turns...

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Life has ne'er? been soft to my sensations
Intensely kind was none in relations
Looking buses for suicide on stations
Yearning heart wanting someone's temptations

Remembering my past burns...

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Spring Was Delayed
by Michael R. Burch 

Winter came early:
the driving snows,
the delicate frosts
that crystallize

all we forget
or refuse to know,
all we regret
that makes us wise.

Spring was...

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A rose with no thorns

As soft an open as a rose with no thorns. Although the past have created some, I can not see them...

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Drip
       Drop
   Drip 
             ...

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Really, are roses beautiful?
If yes then why I feel 
It has a  story to tell
Which is painful as its thorn

I'm an ugly rose,
with withered...

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flowers of iron
I rust 
flowers of glass 
I shatter 
flowers of Jade 
I lust
flowers of crimson
I tower 
I watch the rays of the sun break...

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As A Rose That Never Grows.
.
A single drop in a vast deep ocean
The furthest star in the night sky
As lonely as a rejected leper 
So...

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Take a step take a bow
don't push me too hard
am still in reminiscence
of my lost course
which tells you I ve not recovered

Take a step take...

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After 13 years a seed
now grows 
The face and soil separate slow 
Over the weed left behind below 
and the dark damp world where no...

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Spleen
by Paul Verlaine
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The roses were so very red;
The ivy, impossibly black.

Dear, with a mere a turn of your head,
My despair’s...

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