That Rose.


It’s been a while now, but that rose still holds a place in my closet

It’s unforgettable, you gave it to me the last time we met,

A year later, it’s all dried up and crushed but red as ever

And to me it signifies the last day we spent together.

That rose has not lost its beauty, I do remember its smell

But it’s still damaged like my heart where you dwell,

Because besides its red colour, my life comprises of nothing bright

Reminding me of the ties that came undone when nothing felt right.

That Rose.
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