Perfectly Flawed
September 3rd, 2014, 03:57 PM
I found this is one of my old notebooks from the seventh grade.
Never Alone
He stands there…alone
Watching the rose petals fly by
He sees something that catches his eye
A white pedal flying amongst the red fields
He wonders; ‘what is that doing here?’
He searches the pasture then finds that which he was looking for
A white rose lying amongst its red brethren
As he picks the rose with no care in the world, the rose digs into his flesh
He was neither careful nor afraid of physical pain
The pain of the thorns distracted him from the pain of heartbreak, a pain much worse
He sees the blood dripping from his hand upon the rose
Then the rose turns red like all its neighbours
But under the tainted coating it’s still that unique white rose different from the rest
He is not alone
Never Alone
He stands there…alone
Watching the rose petals fly by
He sees something that catches his eye
A white pedal flying amongst the red fields
He wonders; ‘what is that doing here?’
He searches the pasture then finds that which he was looking for
A white rose lying amongst its red brethren
As he picks the rose with no care in the world, the rose digs into his flesh
He was neither careful nor afraid of physical pain
The pain of the thorns distracted him from the pain of heartbreak, a pain much worse
He sees the blood dripping from his hand upon the rose
Then the rose turns red like all its neighbours
But under the tainted coating it’s still that unique white rose different from the rest
He is not alone