Small insignificant, forgotten little dark rose
Is this strange form of a poets prose
Petals coursing with blood and love
Life and inspiration sent from above
Must I consider some sign from the sky
Or is that a thought I should not defy
A dark wanderer away from home
Exposing its elegant unique chromesone
Innocent and lonely, a happy smiling face
Yearns for yet another romantic embrace
I try to walk away, but instincly turn around
Admiring its brilliant colour so profound
I follow the road and look up high into the sky
Crying to the blossom's quiet goodbye
Repeating a prayer that the lady once chose
Do you suppose theres hope in this heartfelt rose?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem