You were roused from sleep
by the sweet scent of a rose,
you eagerly sprang to rise
and said, 'Yes, I remember, '
Indeed, you do remember,
you needed no reminder,
Rose was living in the tall house,
you in a modest house across,
rich-poor dichotomy meant none,
none between you and her,
a story read only in fairy tales,
it happened to both of you,
you talked for endless hours
on a seat under a rose tree,
whispering rose-scented words,
planning a rose colored world,
you too know what to do next day,
a day you always prepared for,
you have done it as many times
as you can remember, tirelessly,
at break of day you will go to church,
to pray all that is best for your Rose,
then you will go to your favorite bistro
and pick out a secluded table for two,
but you know nobody will sit across,
Rose will not be there to be with you,
gone long ago, can never come back,
shot by a man aiming for fast buck.
© FLQ March 2,2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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