Beating Tree Poems
A Rose I Am No More
If roses are the colors pink, red, yellow & white,
What happens if my rose is the color of black.
If all roses have their thorns,
What happens if my rose has lost its thorns.
If a rose that has no color & no thorns is no longer a rose,
Then a rose of color & thorns I am no more.
A rose I am no more, A rose I am no more.
These hands I have do not belong to this flesh.
These hands don’t have skin just bones.
These hands hold a long and thin scythe.
These hands I have did something I didn’t want.
These hands I have, I want them to be chopped off.
These hands I have kill me in the inside
These hands I have torture my eyes.
These hands I have do not love what I love.
These hands I have tossed away the ring I vowed to cherish.