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

By Bryan Deakin

Hello and welcome to my site, my name is Bryan Deakin, 35yr old from Scotland. A Dyspraxic, Poet, Blogger and Community Activist, I studieda BSc(Hons) Sustainable Development, at the University of Highlands and Islands. Lover of all things Greek and Finnish, and a keen and active member of Falkirk SNP. Prior I was Vice President of Simple Machines, and Project Manager at Simple Machines Forum (SMF).

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