rather than the pretty rose,
that was showered with
praise and poise
and sunshine smiles,
the mimosa plant always was
pricked by the curious calico cat,
curling into itself
and if i were to do the same,
would i disappear too?

Idle days thinking...

All the time we
Make mistakes.

Time heals us.
Is it true?
Roses have thorns.
Evidentially the same applies to time.
Doesn't it?

|small gee for god; big bee for byron|
Strikes a chord with you, does it?
This shambling poverty of thought,
Insta-rated and underwhelming;
Thank god for Byron.

|keats versus shelley|
Sparing no injury to his phthisicky frame,
Keats lies atop a make-believe of cherry trees
Searching among the clouds
For wealth, health and a Grecian urn,
While Shelley does Venice
And blows himself a hookah.

|o poesy! for thee I grasp my pen|
Panning the wayward sky for inspiration,
A hope, a word, a beginning;
A versification so ecstatic as to transfix the senses and pierce the heart,
A lightning phrase capable of uprooting all commonality,
As outrageous a miracle in the minds of men as crucified immortality.

|requiem|
Unlike the wilting rose which has no higher calling
Than to bloom and die upon the stem,
And having relinquished its last perfumed petal
Retreat from memory again,
I fear that I shall linger,
Tethered to this eternal moment
By shudd’ring will and breath combined,
A brighter shade of myself than what of me I have left behind.

I found you this rose
it's the color one has to see to win a fight in jail
as far as fighting goes
I don't think I'll ever prevail
fighting tooth and nail
against brutish males
of which you are one
holding my rose like a gun
which was set to stun
and now to ****
you get your fill
removing my will
by sitting me still.

I gave you a red flower
with thorns
it gave you power
and horns
adorned
above your scorn
looking down on me
a coyote howling
amongst the evergreens
that are never seen
and an ember means
the death of trees
so the creatures leave
at the sight of steam.

I'll respect you
I'll treat you right
so I expect you
to leave tonight
while keeping my rose
to keep me feeling low
to keep me on my toes
to keep me on the go
in fact the only thing not worth keeping
is the man who just got done speaking.

Miss Rosy Dee
Why won't you ever love me?

Miss Rosy Dee
Why did you have to rip my heart out?

Miss Rosy Dee
Please love me

Rose is the feeling of love which can be felt from heart
That love doesn't only mean life partner or girlfriend - boyfriend
It's define love of all type may be it of sisters, brothers, friends, parents, teachers etc
It's petals is so soft Which defines love, happiness and innocency
It's also have thorns which protects rose petals means innocence Otherwise anyone can hurt it Everyone hate thorns bcoz it hurt us But it protect that rose petals from hurting
Thorns define struggle,pain and hard work
This rose may it rose petals or thorns it not only define the expression love but it also define our life
bcoz our life is not different from this things
Love is beautiful emotions and that's why we love rose.
Without thorns there will not be any identity of rose petals
where as of course there is no work of throns without rose petals which means innocenceness.

One step walk
thousands of smiles.
One rose flower
sing tons of birds.
Bask in pop out
first thing first!

The rose of love withered on the vine
In lifeless disposition she'd remain
Her syrupy nectar slowly did decline
A bewailing sorrow in ending twain
No recapture of a past happiness
The petals perished browning to dark
Disappearing elation's gleefulness
A flower's heart minus her loving spark
Without the touch of fondness on the bloom
Her brilliant brightness faded well away
Those wondrous days were replaced by gloom
Sombre melancholy of saddest pall's shay
As dusk's hour turns to the dying closeness
Reflect on the rose's mood of dimness