Russell Crow

Silver Star - 3,013 Points (May 25th,1995)

The Bright Red Of A Rosebud - Poem by Russell Crow

Calling…calling who…
Does the name belong to her, the one I still finger the touch of her lips upon mine
Does the lonely picture in my pocket portray her, the one I keep resting in my wallet
The one my lips touch everyday in a small instant
Rose…her name drives the very strength out of me
Leaving me pale stricken, glossy eyed
In a moment filled eclipse of irrelevant static
The static mimicking the sound of a thousand buzzing flies
Slowly encompassing me in deliberate darkness
Rose…what is the reason I know of you
Rose…what is the reason to why I cannot forget to remember you
Rose…so bittersweet like the first taste of a grapefruit
Rose…lonely Rose
I find myself curled up in a tiny ball contained with fearful dismay
My knees hugging my chest in distress, in panic, in disgust, in shame
Am I honestly the one to blame; a sharp pain to receive from guilt
Is this what it feels like to be cut with a knife or am I the one
The one who has forgotten the blood stained tub
The bright red of a rosebud
I really never knew her name
I just know the scream and dead silence of silent agony
And being unable to save…
Rose…oh Rose…Rose…

Comments about The Bright Red Of A Rosebud by Russell Crow

  • Mc Emm (5/13/2013 11:18:00 PM)

    Really good one and touching.Keep writing (Report) Reply

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  • Gajanan Mishra (5/13/2013 9:21:00 PM)

    bright red of a rose bud, thanks, good write.
    I invite you to read my poems and comment.
    (Report) Reply

  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (5/13/2013 9:16:00 PM)

    Out burst complete poem runs in faster track well (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 13, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 14, 2013

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