Thursday, February 9, 2012

the dead rose

our love was 
a single rose that we kept guarded, 
placed under a glass dome, 
hidden away from other eyes. 
we only lifted the protection when we were alone; 
a single touch, a single rose. 
no matter what we do now, that rose is now dead, 
it suffered in its sanctuary, 
in its tiny glass prison. 
I try to pick up the fallen petals, 
wishing I could breathe new life into 
our fragile, fragrant, precious rose 
but it only keeps wilting on the palm of my hand 
no matter what I do. 
we can place the petals back onto the heart with glue 
but we can't bring that rose back to life; 
our time has passed 
no matter what we do.

sometimes, that's the way love goes...

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