You used to be my rose <br />My symbol of hope when the world was cruel <br />Soft, sweet and full of beauty <br />making me smile as I gazed upon your face <br /> <br />I placed you in a crystal vase <br />and held you on a pedastal <br />To be the one I look to <br />on my dark and lonely nights <br /> <br />I never dared to touch your essence <br />but then one day I changed <br />desperate for your meaning <br />I brought you down to my level <br /> <br />I reached my hand out <br />to run my fingers along your silky stem <br />hoping that by doing so <br />I could absorb you into my skin <br /> <br />Then the vase shattered <br />and the pedastal went up in flames <br />for when your thorn pierced my soul <br />The truth finally filled my eyes <br /> <br />You used to be my rose <br />but now I see your withered leaves <br />and as you fell onto my blackened ground <br />I went down to my knees and cried.<br /><br />Deana Rode<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2004-rose/
