Clutching a White Rose
A single
white rose,
held against
pallid hues
of whiteness.
Not cold,
but warmer
than this innocent.
Who placed
the rose
within this
chilled
embrace?
Caring hearts
and minds
cannot
understand.
This picture,
held within
my minds-eye,
was captured
with words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem