Monday, March 21, 2016

Red



Love is like a red, red rose
Held by tender hands,
Blood runs down upturned stem
And drips upon the sands,

Love is like a red, red rose
Slowly turning black,
The petals like the pages
Of a bleak almanac

Love is like a red, red rose
Spilled upon the stone,
The only message held therein
You're going to die alone.

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