Bryan Deakin

Scottish Poet / Blogger / Community Activist

A Rose

A rose slowly falls,
Stormy night,
Flash of  light,

The silhouette of the rose,
Can be seen,
In the sky.

He stands tall,
She lies low,
begging please.

The rose,
slowly falls.

Knife in her heart,
Stab in the dark,
Her heart breaks,
He stands tall.

The rose still falls.

Minute turn into hours,
Hours into days,
Days become weeks,
Weeks change to months.
And months morph to years.

She stands tall
As the rose falls,
He is now low,
The rose starts to stall.
He has the broken heart.
Things have changed.

The rose no longer falls.

© 2008-2016

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