Friday, February 2, 2007

if only...

If only roses bled.
They would lie in a pool of deep red blood, where green thorns would drown.
Drown and die. In a lake, dark red, green thorns would drown and die.
A red death.

If only roses bled.
They would not burn on autumn nights. Burn and turn to grey-black ash on deep blue nights.
Their hearts would not turn to dust, that floats on the dry air.
They would not die on blue nights, choked by grey-black ash.
A grey-black death.

And the police officer didn't register the complaint of the death of the roses.
The grey-black death of the roses on the blue autumn night.
Perhaps he would have registered a red death of roses in a pool of red blood.

Maybe.....if only roses bled.

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