• A rose is only but a n** away
    from what the heart has to say.

    A rose is but a dusty thing
    when thrown to the ground, given away.

    A rose just by the smell
    brings back a memory so fine, so well.

    A rose just by the name of it's tenderness
    give the love by it's companion it's tender kiss.

    A rose whose love is just but a game, thrown away,
    tossed aside just like a lonely barrel of dismay.

    A rose bitten into subtle sweet sex should you dare,
    shall one even attempt to care?

    A rose, a rose.
    What did I do with you, losing my touch, feeling, love or tender sweet bliss?

    A rose, as red as could be
    with the blood stained heart of my broken memory. -le sigh-