A Rose Poem by Abhilaasha Singh

The rose he gave me one day,
Was the first I had ever called mine.
Even though it came with its share of thorns,
To me there was nothing more divine.

I overlooked the thorns that day,
And made the gravest mistake.
Little had I realised that,
A prick by it my life could take.

Yet I preserved the rose
In a hidden corner of my heart.
Only to be told repeatedly that,
It was foolishness on my part.

Days, years and months went by,
All I did ever, was wait for a sign.
None of my love was ever returned,
Which grew upon me in stinging time.

The rose was dying and falling apart,
I held on tight hoping it would never depart.
I traded to save it what I loved most- my soul,
As it regained lost colour from the blood of my heart.