A long eugenic past
reduces roses to
a vain and pampered caste.
Their charm is artifice,
their fragile shell of cells
unfit for wilderness.
Their languid symmetries
and anorexic airs
A run of blossoms, thick
and tangled by the road,
displays a truer pick.
Prefer the bindweed vines
that cannot stand alone
yet clench the mossy spines
of trees and grasp as tight
as nightmares or disease
while hoarding hints of light.
By cloning a delight,
obsessing towards some form,
we dull what should excite.
A rose bouquet contrives
to label wordless joy
when nothing true survives.
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Comments about this poem (Against Roses by AM Juster )
- This is human race, Aftab Alam
- God Bless The Teacher, Enoch Gyamfi
- Hunger, Kyle Schlicher
- Love don't have no name on it!, Shirley Morgan
- There Was A Time, Kyle Schlicher
- No Such Thing As Handicapped, louis rams
- Here I Am, Kyle Schlicher
- Destroy hunger, gajanan mishra
- Treachery is a Treacherous' Red, Aftab Alam
- I'll Be There, Brandon Ezzard
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