Your White Rose

[b]Would finding a rose
Be hard for you to see?
Every ounce of you
Would come to think of me.
A precious white
Prim and delicate
But you give it reason for the pedals to descend
Into the dirt
Of the unknown and danger
You would watch the rose
Fall with no care.
You would envision its suffer
It’s tumble to the ground
You would try to put the rose back together
No luck abound.
Watch the pedals fall,
Watch the stem still firm
Feel the thorn stab your finger,
Leave your pain for the floor.
Give it time
She’ll come back
With nothing left
But your pain in her neck
You will have nothing
She does not have
You will want her back
Such a pain
Such a drag.