Photo by Bryan White on Unsplash
My love is like a red, red rose - plucked.
Only its thorny stem remains.
Thin, twisted, spiky, alone.
What should I do with it?
Memorialise?
Or take scissors
And snip it
Into
Bits?
About the Creator
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Comments (13)
Wonderful nonet, masterfully crafted.
Excellent nonet ✅… I don’t know how you manage to write everything, in so many challenges etc, alongside your 366 microfictions😳.
Well-wrought! And, if you don't mind me being my usual chatty self, I have what I think is the best answer to your question: Properly tended, the cuttings of a rose can grow a whole bush if replanted. Sometimes it's best we tear up our roots and plant them in better soil in hopes that future generations will experience the love we lost, which is, of course, an act of love in itself. As I have before stated, even where others are absent, love remains. Seed must root in darkness before the flower can reach to the light!
This one hurts. Feel like this really reflects lost love - or it does to me. I think we’ve all been there. So well written - as ever.
Put it in the ground. It might come back to life.
Very nice! Love the strong imagery in this!
Argggh, this one hurts like the thorns. The poem makes us feel the pain - superb!
Thorns remain as a warning to those who approahc--tread carefully.
I loved the opening echo of Robert Burns poem and how deftly you shaped it to your own ends! Well done, Rachel!
Felt every word!!
Greaat take on this , well worded
Oh damn. This is first class, Rachel. Loved the metaphor of a plucked rose...that is how it feels when a breakup happens. So true. Well done, really well done Chum!
Gotta snip it into bits. That's the only way to move on. Loved your poem!