Two Bunches Of Red Roses Poem by Gert Strydom

I saw her drying out
two bunches of dark red roses
that I had given
to her,
which she hanged up high
in our bedroom.

She left some thorns
on the green stems
and the colour of the flowers
changed and become darker
and almost black.

The cups lost most
of their lovely fragrance,
but kept some
and became hard and dry
and brittle
and the leaves edges
lost their perfect shape.

With time the love
between us withered away
when she strayed to another
and respect and trust
was nowhere to be found
and I realised that love needs
to be a living thing.