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The Roses are Wilting
January 18, 2023
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I sit here thinking
Of a love so true
But the roses are wilting
The violets are dead
My heart is aching
My wrists are stained red
The sun isn’t shining
It snows from above
I’m lying here frozen
Thinking of love
A bond that we formed
A love that ran deep
A pain that we shared
A friend i could keep
Tears on my face
My wrists running red
The roses are wilting
The violets are dead
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This was written after my grandmother passed. Her birthday was valentines and although i hardly got to see her, I missed her more than anything. This poem showcases the thoughts running through my head after she passed. It was a way for me to express my pain without feeling the pain.