A little red rose. Blog Marathon Post 7.

Here's a poem I wrote today. I was thinking all philosophical today.. *again* and words started bombarding my poor little brain. So much so that, I had to jot down every word which resulted in this poem. Hope it's turned out good. Every word has been written from the heart. :)


A little red rose
Peered out of the window
Tender, just like a human heart,
She was scarlet is all I know.

The little red rose
She bloomed and swayed,
Never forlorn, bringing all joy.
But she was plucked.

The little red rose
That she was.
She winced and she cried
Oh, what a loss!

The little red rose,
No longer alive.
Butchered heartlessly
With a long sharp knife.

The little red rose
Now sprawled on the floor.
Unmoving, so cold
And rotten in her core.

The little red rose
Was once whole
She now wilts lying there
Without a soul.

The little red rose
Not red anymore
Turns ashy
Left all alone.

The little red rose
Lifeless and dry
Crushed within mere palms
Crackling sounds arise

Our little red rose
Barely recognizable
Is just fine particles of dust
Swept away, actions intentional.

Little red rose?
No, a dead black rose!

© 2012 Dhriti Govind Raj

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