Ramblings At 1: 37

the background
is a garden of roses

fresh red roses
with lots of thorns

and then the white lady
with falling hair comes

with a pair of scissors
and the roses fear no more

for their daily deaths
their executioner is here

this art, this lady with
a commitment to cut

the finer and more beautiful ones
as offering

for her long dead husband
crushed by a war

of suppression and depression
face derided

face off, slashed wrist and
compulsory writs

she picks one for me
and i write one crazy poem for her

just being fair
to madness and art and
compulsion

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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