..The White Bleeding Rose And The Dying Child Poem by RIC BASTASA

on the first day
you are the white bleeding
rose

even the vase at the
living room
does not wish to have you
in

who wants pain anyway?
and so the lady of the house
has only disgust for you
white bleeding rose


thrown away into the bin
until a child finds you in the
garbage place

treasuring you as its one
and only flower
that cheers it for the
rest of his life

and that is where meaning is
found
which wilting has not destroyed

the white bleeding rose bleeds
no more
to the happy face of the dying
child....