I would not love a rose,
Unless she were from Mexicali.
I would not even pen it prose,
Were she the Lily Of The Valley.
For like a woman, the rose bears thorns,
That tear into your heart.
To leave you lonely and forlorn,
When from you she does part.
Roses are beauteous to behold,
But they never care for you.
They take your heart your very soul,
And that is all they do.
They take all that you have to give,
Without reciprocation.
Until you lose the will to live
From amorous deprivation.
I would not ever love a rose,
No, not even from Mexicali.
My heart has bled too many times,
It's time I set it free.
10/9/2014 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, I'm just blown away. That was amazing! Keep her goin! -Rebecca :)