Roses are Red

It's just a dark poem everybody will relate to.

Roses are red,
Their thorns are sharp,
Beware from them,
They'll stab you in the skin hard,
Their daggers make your blood flow,
Your blood's running out of your body,
Making your Mind blow,
Like a loved one that hurt you the most,
It's a rage you are boiling in a red volcanic sack,
See....take a step back,
Roses are still red.
Roses are red,
Love is blue,
When you are left,
You are still in the blue……
It's an old fairy tale,
That mama read for you,
today's roses are red,
Because the rage is still fresh.
Red roses are for love,
But the thorns are,
for aggression and hurt,
More the roses are soft,
More the thorns are small knives,
Small knives come like an,
experience in everybody's lives.

Reviews

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

I like the way you brought the light on the thrones. Yes, love hurts at times and when it does, its really deep and sharp. More than even thrones. Great work!

[Shweta]

Thankyou so much for appreciating my work:)

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

Your most welcome :)