Little roses that
Fight through a cold night
To bloom in the morning,
Die at the
Altar of a smile.
Do I blame the boy
Who killed a rose
To gift his girl?
Do I blame the girl
Who blushed and smiled
And gleefully kissed him back
When he went down on his knees
With a rose in his hand?
Do I blame the fate?
Do I blame the weight
Of unspoken dreams the little rose
Bore on its back
waiting for the sun to rise?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem