End Of Beauty! Poem by hajara abdul khader

I saw a rose with no thorns;
It grew from dirty ground.

Red as cherry,
Wet with dew;
Ruddy, lively, fresh;
It stands with pride.

Wind blows fragrance.

I see the mist
Lingering over,
Touching its lips.

I hear buzzing;
Bees are at it,
Tasting its savor.

Wind blows fragrance;
Near and far it goes.

There's a girl,
By her a man.

The rose with no thorns
Stands upon dirty ground,
Air full of fragrance.

The girl caresses it,
Whispers to her guy,
'oh! it's beautiful'

Ruddy, lively, fresh;
It stands with pride.

Alas!
The girl plucks it,
Places on her auburn hair,
And walks away,
With the guy and the rose.

Wind blows;
Bees buzz;
Mist lingers over.