she's a painting out of focus
with the good sense of intention
she's authentic
she's a model of disaster
with the heart of revolution
she's so innocent
but guilty's her plea
everybody wants to save her
from herself
they really want to save themselves
she's got the grace of a tourist
with the charm of demolition
she's a poem
without meter or rhyme
a random design of a flower
like a rose
no one really knows
she's a masterpiece deserving
restoration or condemnation
time will tell us if she's a lifer
or a decom-poseur
she is rose
no one really knows