PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Memories of a rose whose savory fragrance lingers

Essence plucked right from this earth as if by magic fingers

Petals float and fall, aimlessly dancing towards the ground

But as each petal touches grass, there is not but one sound

For no one truly knows its gone, except the bush from which its cleft

And its true grandeur isn't seen in the weary eyes of theft

The one red rose calls out to those whose beauty it preserves

To save its lasting memory, the death that it deserves

So as it falls right to the ground, it utters not one word

For it knows that in the reckless world, its voice will not be heard....