Rose

Rose short poem

Photo by georgereyes

Rose blossoms in filth
Love for lust begins in bliss

Thorn accompanies Rose
uncertainty is part of Love

Rose looks beautiful when fresh
Lover looks attractive at first sight

Rose withers over a time
Love turns bitter after some time

Rose when withered is squeezed and thrown to dust bin
Love turning to hate spills their blood into gory

Rose springs up again from the dustbin afresh
Love rests without peace unable to rise from the Grave

Thorn and Rose can co-exist
But
Lust and Love can never be together

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 3.50 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Ramapriya Nr

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am a retired Engineer from the Government of Karnataka and now 64 year old. post retirement I fancied to write in 3 languages namely English,Hindi and kannada. I have written several poems,short stories etc and have published two books namely ""Tri bhasha Kritigalu and Rampys vision on lifes mission and now it has become passion for me to continue writing. I have also developed several software computer programmes covering Technical,medical and general programmes
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
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

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

The White Rose

The White Rose ballad

The shepherd stood on the field, frail, He knew not what to do when and why, As the wrathful sun did steep down, The confused chap followed his humble sheep. Then one man neared and asked his name, He gasped