The cloudy ash-gray rose begins to shed
Its thin petals shrivel as they drift down
Among many wilting in the rose bed-
Waiting for the end where peace shall be found
Subsurface roots expand to greatest lengths
Lost hope and searching for sources they lack
The sun slashes on its leaves needing strength
A feeling like blades running up its back
With a snap, the stem makes a sudden fall
To its stem, the bud is no longer pinned
The ground is spread with fragments above all
Which blow away with the journeying wind
Liberating soldiers form a new light,
Helping a new bud grow with hope in sight
I had to write a poem for
class and it turns out, I really like poerty:)
The poem is a Sonnet
The cloudy ash-gray rose begins to shed Its thin petals shrivel
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·
Jul 2, 2012 12:01am
