The Child Made The Choice
when you were a child
you crawled to two choices
one for the life of the
red rose
and another one for the short lived
burst of the gun
you grabbed the rose
and that was enough
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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First rose
A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.
A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.
And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.
She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Just One Rose...
that's a homework i need you to tell me if i should hand it to the teacher or not...(:
just one rose, a pretty rose...
just one rose for me with no coze...
just one rose pure and true...
just one rose for me is all i can do...
just one rose somewhere out there...
just one rose for me to care...
just one rose when dark days prevail...
just one rose when people only use petrail...
just one rose and all the time...
just one rosefor me is a crime...
poem by rose of death XxX

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I Found A Rose
I found a rose
between a rose bud
and a dieing rose
neither pick nor pulled
grown from the seed and into the vines
one day the rose will die as though as the other
the bud will die as though as the others
but i plucked the dieing rose to put it out of its misserary
i plucked the rose bud to put it out of its misserary
and i left the rose for its process has begun
and at that moment i stood between an old man
and i child
and there was I as the old man fainted upon the grown
and yes there i was as the child bled from its nose
the color of the rose.
and there i was not a scratch but still hurt.
poem by Martel Alexis

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One Rose
Rose
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each bruise
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you cheated
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you forced me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each pointless arguement
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each crime
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you try to end me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
How many more can I live through?
poem by Lexie Night

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What A Rose Can Say
A rose can say I love you and want you to be mine,
A rose can say I thank you for being so very kind,
A rose can say congratulations, whatever the occasion may be,
A rose can say I miss you and wish you were here with me,
A rose can say I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way,
A rose can say get well soon, May God bless you today,
A rose can say I wish you happiness, and the best for you each day.
A rose can say farewel when someone goes away,
A rose can say hello, I'm thinking of you today,
There's just so many wonderful things that a rose can say,
A rose can say goodbye when a love one is laid to rest,
No matter what there is to say, a rose can say it best.
poem by Margie Driver

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May-Rose
On this day to life she came—
May-Rose, my May-Rose!
With scented breeze, with flowered flame,
She touched the earth and took her name
Of May, Rose.
Here, to-day, she grows and flowers—
May-Rose, my May-Rose.
All my life with light she dowers,
And colors all the coming hours
With May, Rose!
poem by George Parsons Lathrop

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A Single Black Rose
A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole
A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these
A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery
A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.
(8/21/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker

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Without The Rose
Love is like a rose
good to hold and smell
but then that rose begins to die
and you go through hell
One thing you should know my friends
is that love can scorn
and just like life
every rose has it's thorns.
but as the rose you hold
withers and fades away
another rose has appeared
and your pains is taken away.
This cycle of life
no one will ever know
why we would fight amongst ourself
for that one single rose
And even though we try
to let our pain go
we can't do it
without that rose
poem by Shelbie Bozeman

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A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart…
A black rose brings the scent of death as it tears love apart…
A black rose makes nightmares reality…
A black rose fills my life with uncertainty…
A black rose is forgotten hopes and dreams…
A black rose is a broken girl laying in tears and painful screams…
A black rose is the pain of a shattered life…
A black rose is lost love in my hopeless life…
A black rose is the memories that haunt my restless soul…
A black rose took everything from me that once made me whole…
Including…you…
Love Not Like A Rose
The rose
Is the symbol
Of love,
But that doesn't
Make sense
To me, now.
Yes, love,
Like a rose,
Is beautiful,
And love,
Like a thorn,
Hurts.
My love for you is unconditional,
Unlike a rose
That wilts under any stress.
My love for you is forever,
Unlike a rose
That withers after a short while.
I will give you
This rose,
But I will tell you
My love for you
Is love
Not like a rose.
poem by Stephen Carey

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Still A Rose
A rose is a rose every day, every night
You too are the same, except different in my sight
You are like a rose, such a beautiful creation
But a rose in disguise, meant to blume for every nation
So show your beauty, for I know what you are
You are a rose in disguise, and very, very wise
A rose is a rose is a rose.....
poem by Pearl Adaeze Okafor

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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
A Rose In Disguise
A rose is a rose every day, every night
You too are the same, except different in my sight
You are like a rose, such a beautiful creation
But a rose in disguise, meant to blume for every nation
So show your beauty, for I know what you are
You are a rose in disguise, and very, very wise
A rose is a rose is a rose.....
poem by Sarah Mellberg

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The Rose Family
The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose -
But were always a rose.
poem by Robert Frost

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Our Crushed Rose
Upon the hills of England
The brightest rose bloomed,
And people admired it's beauty
But this rose was doomed.
The rose was crushed,
It's petals were torn,
The world lost it's rose
On an August morn.
If it had lived
What could have been,
One can only imagine,
One can only dream.
poem by Claire Chambers

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Full Motion
This rose shows right path
In right direction.
I am not jealous the rose
Rose is with me alldays.
Come with a rose to win
Come with a rose to take
Whtever you like.
You are the only rose
And I am drinkng with you
The life poison in full motion
And moving in right direction.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart
A black rose bring the scent of death as it tears love apart
A black rose makes nightmares relity
A black rose fills my life with unsertanty
A black rose is forgoten hopes and dream
A black rose is a broken man laying in tears and painful screams
A black rose is the pain of a widowed wife
A black rose is lost love in my hopless life
A black rose is the memorys that haunt my restless soul
A black rose took everthing from me that once made me whole
poem by Glenn McGahan

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A Rose Intoxication!
Queen of flowers rose is always a fascination!
Rose is symbol of passionate love cheers mood!
Rose lady gives great pride to be with anywhere!
Special respect to rose never changes anywhere;
Red rose, pink rose and even blue rose are there
Occupying a pride of place none can have ever!
Bouquet of rose flowers elates anyone to dizziness!
A special gift indeed rose flowers makes to all!
A single rose is enough to make one grand to look
Instead of a big cluster of flowers of jasmine or lily!
Scent of rose remains fresh in mind wherever one is;
Such a unique flower rose how can anyone ignore
Whether it is in the garden or lies on a wayward side!
Now after seeing rose and read on rose I am intoxicated..!
poem by Ramesh T A

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A Black Single Rose.
A single black rose.
A single black rose to carry the load,
A single black rose to turn the road,
A single black rose to touch the soul,
A single black rose to widen your hole,
A single black rose to melt your heart,
A single black rose to force a start,
A single black rose to make you cry,
A single black rose to make you dry,
A single black rose to help you climb,
A single black rose to make you lie,
A single black rose to take a life,
A single black rose to take away strife.
poem by Natasha Ligons

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Red Rose Destitute Prostitute
Rose has the reddest hair I've seen...
Rose is a prostitute of high repute....
Rose smiles and all your thorns fall off
along with your shoes..............................
Rose and I get along real swell not like
you think....
Rose lives on the streets as well...being as
she is actually she has as many as tree
or four homes a day.
Rose did not show up for her doctors appointment.....
Rose was found in an empty lot with her bush
lopped off.
Rose was destitute when found she was sent off on
what we call the gravy train to every where
rose was cremated under tarp then bailed out.
poem by Cigar Aficionado

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