I Took a wrong turn one day,
and i stumbled upon something whose image always stays:
a bed of roses,
oh so imposing,
was just a vision i won't ever forget.
I try not to take that wrong turn,
(now right)
too often,
so it won't lose its light.
I go only to visit, not the roses left,
but the roses gone.
The shadows left by the roses that left,
are the step-stones to heaven,
but they are much too close to home.
First it was a friend,
way to kind for his own,
good,
he was,
one of a kind.
His rose left the day I,
left him for home,
fell asleep, and the pole,
the pole must've been just as tired- it never moved.
Next
it was a sort of an ex- thing,
not quite the best thing,
she decided not to try.
I would've,
should've,
could've been there
but nope,
its too late
she just up and died.
Now, its a girl whos rose gets taken,
a girl who's
rose, (like the rest)
has disappeared
drifts in to a memory,
her life too transitory.
If only
Death wasn't mandatory...
This garden grows smaller,
thinner,
but never grows empty,
for the shadows, in our hearts,
never become dust.