A rose is a rose...


I am a rose....a wild rose...
My color is black and that adds to my wildness
My petals are rough that tells my uniqueness
My leaves are pale which tells my dullness
My body is full of thorns which shows my toughness

Scorching sun shining on me
With no compassion made me black
Strong winds blowing aganist me
With no passion made me rough
Hail storms and heavy showers pouring
On me made my leaves pale and lifeless

But friend dont think...dont even imagine
That I am worthless and futile...
They swamp me...the bees and the butterflies
Because they know I have the lingering fragrance...

Comments

Anonymous said…
my dear fragrence, hope you do linger in this world of words with your colour of blakness and wilderness
1:04 PM
Anonymous said…
hey wildrose..!

i read ur little poem "A rose is a rose"
it is verry nice and great!
but, the last word 'fragnance'is a black mark!
pls change it to fragrance.

wish u all the best.
7:54 PM
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