Rose petals strewn on pathways,
tell of anger, loss and grief;
Of broken hearts, despairing days,
and the loss of true belief.
It could also tell of true love,
that paves the way for passion;
That showers from above,
in a quaint and age-old fashion.
Who dares decipher love's ways?
That float upon a feather...
Drifting steadily far astray,
Changing with the weather.
Let roses be your reply, soft as petals strewn,
A gentle translation, an answer opportune.
©
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