I see the faded blue rose,
It sits with no love.
I wonder who will have the courage to help.
I look around and see people walking by,
As if the rose isn't there.
I walk over to the rose and look at a petal,
It has a chance.
I run home and grab something to put it in.
I take the rose out with gentle hands,
Look at the petals again.
Limp,
They might be that...
I know I can help the unwanted rose.
I rise to my feet.
I place the rose in sunshine,
Let it feel the sun and warmth.
I water it,
Let it feel the coolness of it.
I encourage the rose,
Only to get a response.
A week later the rose starts to stand.
The rose is going to be beautiful.
I water the rose and smile.
The faded blue rose will become bright again.
The faded blue rose is one of a kind,
Just like me.
The faded rose is rare,
Like we all are.
The rose has hope,
Like I do.
The rose is a beauty,
Something to make life a joy.
The rose is changing,
The petals higher,
It's brighter.
I touch a petal...
It really is a rose,
I close my eyes and go back to where I found the rose.
It's a mess down here,
I hope it can survive a night alone.
I replant it as a tear falls.
The rose is something I wouldn't cry for,
Or at least it's what I thought.
I cry for the rose and kiss its lace-like petals.
So soft... I think.
The rose can make it on its own.
Just like...
Just like we all can,
I just needed a teacher who could speak.
The rose was my teacher,
Never spoke,
Never did anything but help me grow.
The faded blue rose is now bright,
Not faded or dieing,
Just a beautiful bright symbolic rose.
I smile as I walk away,
Thank you God, you taught me to live with hope...
I walk home on my own,
Thanking God and the bright symbolic rose.
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poems and stuff
read the title stupid^^
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The moon cries my tears
Community Member |
Open your eyes and touch the sky,
Or keep them closed and sink below...
Or keep them closed and sink below...