You, my confidant, are an adamant rose,
A perfect, unchangeable piece of prose,
So fret not, of what was and what will be,
The past we can't alter and the future we can't see
regardless, you remain, through thin, and through thick
For unwaveringly, roses do bloom and roses do prick.
___________________________________________________
A rose. A paradoxical bloom. Is it not? Comment and share your views and do follow !
YOU ARE READING
Wordalmania
Poetry#14 on 8 March 2017 Poetry, Prose. Words bled from the very soul. Musings of an occasional poetess. 'Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words. It is an abstract art, and I am, but a mere artist ' - Edgar Allan Poe ©wordalmaniac 2016
