A Rose just might be taken for dead when covered with leaves and winter snow but when it's again a time for roses that Rose Will spring forth and grow pain can be hidden where no one can see when covered with fear with hate but love can trace all that is hidden if you let it before it's too late life might not have chosen you for me nor me for you but sometimes life deals with a hand and we play it to stay in the game so what may now seem hidden or dead like the roses waiting for spring is given a chance our love can bloom too when it's time for roses again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem