The Burial Beneath The Red Roses Poem by Carlos Perez

My dearest mother.
What a painful sunder.
I miss those times when you held me in your arms and showed me love.
Now, all I can do is stare at where you are, at the sky above.

My dearest mother.
What a regrettable blunder.
I should have listened to you at those times in which I had made mistakes as dirty as mud.
Even though I was just a frightened little girl, I wish I could have saved you from the wolves, hungry for your flesh and thirsty for your blood.

My dearest mother.
What an astonishing color.
We were bound by blood, bound by red.
Red is as beautiful as roses, and it is also my muse, and as I dedicate this poem to you, I now realize that a new destiny awaits me far ahead.

My dearest mother.
What a beautiful wonder.
You once told me: 'It matters not the attention or rewards somebody receives for their talentful essay, but the passion and love put into it when that person composes'.

I will always love you, dear mother.
And I shall be the guardian of your burial beneath this delightful garden of roses.