Roses

A poem that I had wrote a while ago. I never shared it so here it is.

Roses.

Pretty. Beautiful. Bold. Dangerous.
Blame it on the lust.
Blame it on the gun.
Blame it on the fame we gain.

Pretty lips, Pretty hips.
Pretty Lifted I get.
Pretty buds.
Pretty hugs, kisses,
I turn around, pretty mean mug.

Beautiful shoes, Beautiful clothes.
Beautiful soul.
Beautiful rope. Let it go.

Bold statement.
Bold case that’s cold.
Bold bass in your voice. Sound off.
Bold movement, no rules. No tools.
Boldly go with no guides.

Dangerous mind. It’s sharp. One if a kind.
Dangerous thoughts, dangerous phone call.
Dangerous actions. Danger Danger Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger….. -

The vine turns old. A pretty Rose that didn’t know where to go. Didn’t know where to grow. Picked up by many. Lusted my plenty. Loved by one. The one. The one. The only. The stroll is long. No one knows……No one exists………. A Rose so cold. Only in bliss.