" The Green Rose by Stewart Stafford

Through fractured eyes,
I see the rose I once plucked,
In another man's hands.

And mistakes that cannot be unmade,
Sins that must go unforgiven,
A resigned reluctance to surrender all hope.

Those fingers enwrapping,
The slender stem,
That only holds spiky thorns for me now.

I watch and reminisce,
So close and familiar,
Yet so alien and barren.

I turn and walk away,
Leaving the green rose,
In place on the grave of what once was.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved. "

― Stewart Stafford