Rose Poem by Genevieve Lilith Vesta

Spring, the rose turns golden.
Summer, the rose turns scarlet.
Fall, the rose turns ashen.
Winter, the rose turns ebony.

The roses beauty is stunning
in spring and summer.
The rose is dismal
when fall and winter come.

The rose never lives long.
It turns from a tender-hearted color
into an unfriendly color.

We want the rose to remain,
but when the final rose of fall
turns black,
love will never come back.