Childhood Roses Poem by Erin McBride
Childhood Roses
Children; so innocent, pure.
Unaffected by the thorns in the bed of roses.
As time goes by the thorns sink into the subtle soul
of those who play in the rose bed.
Swallowing up the spirit that once ran free.
In the garden of Childhood Roses.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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5/23/2024 6:44:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
