Rose Poem by Irene Pang

Rose



Beautiful, no more.
Bloodly red, no more.
Once vigorous with l'amour,
Now dead with nothing more.

The former scarlet pedals
have metamorphosed into
a dull color,
casting a dark silhouette
'round the stem
as if to mourn
for the inevitable death.

Irene Pang
Sunday, May 4, 2008
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Poems By Irene Pang
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