Roses are dead,
In the silence, we're blue,
I could whisper a sorry,
It wouldn't be true.
For our past is the present,
And time has a fate,
I could tell you I love you,
But I'd be too late.
Now your teardrops are falling,
As fall comes around,
Like the leaves grace the pathways,
Your blood taints the ground.
How the roses are dying,
As living things do,
And the wheels set in motion,
For love, we are blue.
YOU ARE READING
Poems.
PoetryThis is mostly my poetry but some are not. My poetry is pure trash, but hope my random writing entertains you.
