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Roses

A reverse poem

By simplicityPublished 2 years ago 1 min read

In Garbage 

Short lived lives

what beauty recorded

amounting to Nothing more than added pieces of a midden mound

 before becoming discarded trash

 foul smelling, molded and soggy 

Before it had an after life Demanding attention 

 sprouting buds 

A guessing game of petals, he loves me he loves me not

 In crimson glory 

Blooming fully 

Splayed out in the sun

 Like a grave

 With dangerous spikes 

 The roses of past




Sent from my Galaxy

BalladFree Verse

About the Creator

simplicity

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Comments (2)

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  • Anna 2 years ago

    Beautiful thoughts! Well done!🥰

  • Jazzy 2 years ago

    whew loved this

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