Like A White Rose Poem by Chelsea Jean
Like A White Rose
Love, when it is pure is white,
Like a white rose
But love, like a rose, dies
Turning from white, to grey, to brown,
And finally to black.
When love is black
It is dead
But love, again like a rose
Can be reborn
Turning once again to white
Then, when love is at it's purest,
It is then plucked, and pressed,
It then fades,
But never dies.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
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4/20/2024 5:30:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
