Out of a hundred roses
I plucked you
Red one.
Your sharp thorns
Are real
Red one.
These wounds
On my palm bleed
Red one.
Gibberish!
You are just a rose
Not love.
Red one.
this piece is great, certainly is not a cliche my friend. congratulations and welcome aboard.
You brought out well the simularities between a rose and love well. Well done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
now i can see that Red is red... yet love is more than Red.... you make my day.... i like your poem.... a matter of reflection tells the truth..... wow a wonderful poem.. thank you... a 10+