Acquiesce

Rating: 5.0

At the incline
Of the mountain,
Wild roses bloom
Dark red
Like the puddle
Of blood
At a murder scene.

I slowly walk alone
The hillside of isolation
Like an Easter Parade
Depleted of joy
And reduced to a funereal dirge.

I don’t think,
She will ever understand
How badly I was hurt
When she refused to acquiesce
To give me her hand.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lee Degnan 08 August 2007

Your depth is bottomless, bringing forth the beauty in your pain and sadness... I've been missing your writes. Amazingly deep and vivid. Thanks! Lee

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Dee Daffodil 28 July 2007

Touching and sad...Those wild roses must be very very red! Hugs, Dee

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Anna Russell 28 July 2007

Uriah, you have such a talent for turning sadness into beauty. Hugs Anna xxx

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Sandra Fowler 28 July 2007

No one speaks the language of sadness more eloquently than you do. Beautiful, as always, Uriah. Warmest regards, Sandra

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