Jul 20
A fake red rose
I plucked long ago,
Thinking it would
hold my tears.
Its scent was foul,
though I didn’t know;
The thread snapped
with just one stroke.
I plucked long ago,
Thinking it would
hold my tears.
Its scent was foul,
though I didn’t know;
The thread snapped
with just one stroke.
Ever felt the same? Torn with just a single choice?
