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~White Tipped In Red~Soft, how the petals drop,~White Tipped In Red~ in Free Verse
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White roses tipped in red.
For once was heard to be said
Love was most sweet when blushing passion.
But, roses fade as do passions.
White innocence, cinnamon love
Etoliates to mudded brown and searing black.
And, if these petals are not snipped,
The whole bloom will soon fall slack.
Any gardener can tell you that.
Let go to primal screams
And the degrading horror of feral dreams
Are those fleeting petal loves.
Sadder still than this
Is the knowledge that,
No matter how oft' you clip,
Out from its stem the blooms sweet life will drip.
So, you stand in pools clear and crystal,
Mirror depths marred by rippling cries,
Trying to walk on waves
And nourish your bloom before it finally dies.
Clothed in silver white and luminescent blue,
Who would wish to watch their fading Bloom?
Like watching paint dry on a wall
'tis a heart-wrenching suspense you cannot fathom.
Yet your blind ears, bleedingly deaf eyes,
Do fathom this:
A requiem larked by stars,
Caroused by satin w