Rose

Rose

Cold, cold is my Rose
Like the ice in the frozen lake on a cold winter night
I loved my Rose
When her thorns didn't prick
To me she was a beautiful flower

As I lay here alone in the dark
I see images of my Rose
Kissing someone else's lips tonight
And I remember when it was all good and sweet

I get up, pack my things, and head outside
The cool wind blowing on my face
The moon shining from above makes this a special night
I see my Rose in the distance running down the road
Waving and calling out my name

I don't want to hear her voice anymore
I don't answer or wave
I don't shed a tear
I get into my car and drive off as fast as I can
I pause slightly on the road, to get one last glimpse of my Rose.

Natalie Holland (c) 3-21-12