Cement holds the roots from beneath
Moss grows seeping to a tree
And love unfolds the story that we speak
The sight that I see...
Drops my nerves to it's defeat
Can't seem to believe
The surface creaks...
I trip over a crack in the street
What I see makes my heart beat
Finally something I can meet
Red, Green, and Thorny
What can this mean?
The skies clear the ground is bare
I pick up not trying to tear
The roots and colors are beautiful to see
The vase is near because...
I picked up a Rose That Grew From Concrete
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem