Behold there,
The heather concrete is broken.
There is a tale that isn't spoken.
Silent,
Not noticed at all,
What is it that you see,
When you walk the secluded sidewalk?
A blood red rose,
That strives to be noticed.
The rose so beautiful,
In a place so bland.
The flower so well-formed,
Will never be taken away from its home.
Like the life was taken,
From the walk way once traveled above all.
The razorblade thorns,
Assures the beauty will stay.
The calm heather concrete,
Will once again become the path taken everyday.
And will be beautiful with the blood red rose.
A contest entry
- the rose that grew from concrete by hungermuncher.
367 points, ended May 22, 2007, 7 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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this piece is sweet as
u have a real talent
i admire your work
keep it up
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I love this one,
This would have to be my favorite so far...
I love it...
A blood red rose,
That strives to be noticed.
The rose so beautiful,
In a place so bland.
The flower so well-formed,
Will never be taken away from its home.
That's my favorite part.
Beautifully written. Nice***
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this is really really gd well done on a great entry i like it and i love the images and the play with words and the idea of the rose from concrete well done best of luck j
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