Please comment.
Thorned Black Roses
Painful daggers rape my skin
Drawing blood to the very surface
To gush in crimson streams
One whimsical word haunts me
Trust…
I let my heart be shown completely
Unprotected and visible
Only for thorns of black to be raked across it
I should have known better;
No rose is as sweet as its ill scent.
Coffee Stains & Crumpled Paper -- A Writers Guild
A haven for writers of all kinds.
Reply | ||||||
|
|