Black Rose Poem by Joy Howarth

Black Rose



A crowd of men, all seeming to be the same

each which held a red rose,

as i walked in between them, twas such a long and painful search

'Where is the black rose I seek? ' thinking to myself 'Maybe over here or over there? '

Ticking and toking now, father time must remind me, for my time is running of somewhat short

i could see i was in a gathering of red. i must push harder through, for it seems every one of them could love

but each i know would wither and fade away as the seasons changed.

one by one, their petals fell to the cold floor.

but wait, there in the middle of the crowd lay a rose of black.

How strange for it to be without a masters hand

A rush of determination overwhelmed me to make haste

By now, the crowd had thickened even more so that it had almost swallowed me whole

How dark it is, to be stuck in these loveless lies

i could no longer hold..

hot streaks reaching just above the nose i forced my way through

on impulse i grabbed each red rose that i could. smashing them onto the ground.

i must know i must see

who's black rose this is to be

red roses..No longer shall i fall prey to the your deceits

for you do not deserve a black rose like me

i must keep running to find a rose that is juts like mine

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