by: D.A. Henneman
Love is like a precious rose,
That blossoms from the heart,
To grow when we’re together,
But to die when we’re apart.
When ere I chance to see you,
It sparks that long lost flame,
That flame that ebbed so long ago,
A loss for none to blame.
Leave memories to be cherished,
Forever and a day,
Not of the tears and sorrow,
As we went our separate ways.
This is one of the first pieces I ever wrote, at a time when angsty poetry filled my soul… so we are talking quite a long time ago. It is a piece so ingrained in my memory, I didn’t even need to look at an old copy of it to reproduce it here. What isn’t coming to mind is the boy I wrote it about, although I suppose it represents any relationship that comes to an end.
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