The Rose
He viewed her as the rose
and captured her inside
he framed her and he hung her up
and she began to cry...
The days did pass, and so the nights
the face he loved did fade
the beauty that was portrayed there
was losing all it's shade...
And so one morning, he awoke
as any day before
he went to see his life, his love
his rose whom he adored...
On that day he looked to see
the loveliness of yore
her face upon the brick filled wall
just as the day before...
Instead of loveliness, he found
a smudgy, smeary mess
the tears she cried had washed away
and stolen loveliness...
He then knelt down, upon his knees
he cried to God above
his heart was filled with misery
for he had lost her love...
He had made a grave mistake
he thought that he could hold
her life, her love, her wonderment
his actions made her cold...
So now he sits alone
keeps staring at the wall
remembering a rose, a face
and just regrets it all...
