It was red, and it was bleeding.
The blood came from broken love.
The thorns were stuck into her heart.
And her heart was bleeding too.
But even though.
It was the rose there was bleeding the most.
She got the rose from her truly love.
The one she didn’t thought would break her heart.
Although her heart, was bleeding and broken.
She was fighting.
Her heart was fighting for her.
This wasn’t what she thought were love.
But she wouldn’t give up.
She wouldn’t let him break her, so easily.
But she had no choice.
Cause her heart, was already in silence.
The beating was stopped.
The blood wasn’t running trough her veins anymore.
It ran down from her chest.
From the red and bleeding rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Rose has always been a good poetic symbol for love and its aftermath...your poem carries good effect of using the rose symbol in driving down your message...good work...10