Rose are dead,

Violets are old,

I miss kissing your head,

Having your hand to hold,

If ever I need to visit you,

I know where you lie,

In the ground covered in grass

of morning dew,

For under the ground the

you reside,

To love forever,

To always be true,

Memories to endeavor,

Old now, no more new,

Never to forget your voice,

Never to grow angry,

To leave me, there was no

choice,

Sickness took my greatest

treasure from me,

So roses be damned,

For they now carry a

different meaning,

Their color now stains

your hands,

To fix you, they said, was

no option, for there was

no treating,

So I watched you fade,

Sang to till my throat was dry,

Those god forsaken roses

placed on the table next

to you, I couldn’t evade,

And then they were once

more there when you died,

I know flowers can’t kill,

But the color red corrupts

my being,

Their shade is a nightmare

I didn’t will,

Now your dying face, when

I peer at them, is all I’m

seeing,

Red petals broken just like

us,

Temporary beauty, much

like our love.