I was going to keep this poem to myself until Valentine’s Day, but no, I'll send it forth today.Ahhh.... spoken like a true schizophrenic!
I send it out, hoping that most of my readers cannot relate whatsoever to the first three verses and can totally identify with the fourth.
A Garden of Roses
Leaving once fragrant paths only magnifies
their differences. Neither can count the dreams
They no longer share, and there
the moist flower fades and dies.
Now they starve, where once a feast
was served. And forgetting that love is weakness
Unyielding… the one wielding
the most power, loves the least.
Too common is this marriage of thorns.
All said and done is rubbed raw and stripped of life;
No moisture… drought, strife
reign here, where love is scorned.
But to meet two lovers as one, that care…
Ah, here is a walk through a garden of roses;
Smell the earth, for there is birth
and rain here… yet all too rare.
1 comment:
A beautiful poem, even with the sad thruths it expresses in the first three verses, or is it because of that?
Post a Comment