They say we are red
But some of us are white
Others are pink
And overlooked;
Hidden in plain sight
Our petals can be as bright as the sun
Yellow and orange; it's blazing fire
Yet, nonexisted next to the burgundy flames
And as the petals wither and start to die
They all look the same
They all cry
So my question to you is
Why do you lie?
Not all roses are red
But they can be white
And pink
And yellow
YOU ARE READING
Dear Rose
PoetryIf I could speak to a rose, there would be a few things I would say. For I picture some of the people in my life as roses, and roses as some of those people. This is what I wish I could say.
