Scar Of Pink Rose

The beauty and aroma of that kingly pink rose,
caught my sense and forced me to pluck that natural pose.
Attracted by its mystery,
knowing little about its history,
just looking at its pinky blush,
my feelings ran deeply flush.
belatedly I went near it,
and tried to pluck it.
I extended my hand,
but its warrior thorns pricked my hand.
there was a deep intense pain,
my wish to attain that flower went in vain.
the red droplets of blood flew down my hand,
to stop the flow I tied a white band.
the white purely turned red,
indeed,never thought this will be the reward I will get.
now on, I even never looked at the flower,
as for, I already had a blood shower.

the scar of wound and the fear of pain remained in my heart,
I always maintained distance from it and remained far apart.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "Scar Of Pink Rose"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Preeti
Member

So true of human nature…we’re drawn by physical beauty, not knowing what dangers are lurking within…

wpDiscuz

The Rape Of The Rose

The Rape Of The Rose short poem

The lanes of my heart will be straight when you’ll leave It will never turn back to those steps you left Neither it will hold on those strings you weaved Nor will it wait for the shadow you shed The

An Old Rose

An Old Rose long poem

When a rose turns old petals fall but the rose bud remains and its beauty and fragrance leaves a lasting impression in our minds Sure the beauty and fragrance of a rose lasts but briefly but the rose garden goes

Pink Reminder

Pink Reminder short poem

It slithers, the tongue trying to find the rage on cold words. A window shuts on fire for a deliberate withdrawl from conflicts. The virgin iron becomes a corpse under the golden amnesia of hot greens. The colors are changing

Winter Rose

Winter Rose long poem

Here comes the snow again some people love it, I hate it I’m more of a Summer kinda guy it’s much too depressing to me being coped up inside looking out my frost covered windows and seeing no sun up

Afeared Rose

Afeared Rose short poem

He gave me a rose today, It was not any Rose day, But for his brutish words last night, I know he is sorry so I smiled. He gave me a rose today, It was not our anniversary day, But