"The Trampled Rose"
I held out a rose to you
When I believed the time was right,
Expecting you to treasure it,
And beg me to stay the night.
I thought it was romantic,
In a classical sort of way,
Of saying how I felt about you
With a love-smothered cliché.
You snatched it from my waiting hand,
And threw it to the ground,
Not even bothering to smell the scent
Given off by its delicate crown.
You ground it underneath your heel,
Like a cockroach on the floor,
As if to ensure its legacy
Would bother you no more…
But within those crimson petals
Was more than you could know,
A secret held in silence
Beneath all those sacred folds.
My rose was more than a desperate lure
To bring you back into my arms;
It was an offer of forever
From a heart that meant no harm.
With the falling of that rose,
My hopes sank to the depths,
Beneath the waves of disappointment,
Into a swelling sea of regret.
I kept that rose to remind me
That secrets are better left unsaid,
When all you have left are thorns,
And torn little bits of red.
TB