Paper Rose (And Other Poems)

Black Rose (Poem #2 In "The Roses" Series)

I Stepped To Her Grave

I Thought She Might Resurrect

She Didn't

My Paper Rose Is Dead

She's Gone, Lost, Forgotten

I Thought She'd Be Remembered

But Now It's

The Middle Of The December 

And She Is Still Gone

Everyone Who Was At Her Funeral 

Is Still Asking,

"What's Wrong?"

What's Wrong; 

Is That The Love Of My Life,

My Paper Rose,

Died 

And Every Day Since Then

I'm The Only One That Cried

Then, As I Write My Thoughts

On My Page

The Ink

Starts Black, Bleeds Blue, And Turns Red

Just Like The Blood

The Blood Pouring From Her Wrist

I Just Wish I Could Ask Her,

"Why Did She Do This?"

I Could Ask Her,

But Then I'd Be Dead And Gone

I Couldn't Do That

Or Could I?

No,

I Must Dismiss

These Thoughts I Dwell On

As I Wedge My Way Into Reality

I See A Rose,

A Black Rose At That

Growing At Her Grave

I Look Up,

It's Night

I Must Go Away

But, First,

I Pick The Rose

And Lie It By Her Name

A Paper Rose And A Black Rose

For My Love,

It's All The Same