Little rose of black and blue,
Tear-eyed droplets of morning dew.
No one loves this little flower,
Except when comes the midnight hour.
They steal her nectar sweet inside,
Like bugs within her bosom hide.
Kept hidden from the suns sweet rays,
She'll forever in the darkness lay.
Oh, who will mourn this little flower?
When at last arrives her hour.
She never knew a bit of love,
The only one who cared, was far above.
1 comment:
Lovely poem! So sad and meaningful. Even the saddest and mournful times of life are brightened by the love of God above. This we must all remember. Thank you for the lovely poem.
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