I begin to grasp,
The thorn becomes part of my finger,
Sinking beneath the skin,
I feel the burning,
My hand remains still,
I adore my Rose,
It remains apart,
My half, my other,
Simply, me,
My blood trickles down,
I clutch harder,
It pains me more so,
But it is after all,
The Rose I adore,
I feel it’s not right,
The pain stays consistent,
But I cannot let go,
It’s my Rose,
This unforgiving thorn,
Although striking and beautiful,
Keeps me connected,
The tenderness is unbearable,
But I cannot let go,
It is the Rose I adore,
I would rather hold the Rose,
And feel the thorn,
Then let it go,
And feel nothing at all
A contest entry
- Best Prewrites. by Simone Brooklyn.
700 points, ended January 18, 65 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - I Just Want Something Good by reckless abandon.
550 points, ended December 25, 2008, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think, and what do you think it means?
Comments
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I really enjoyed reading this one. It flows nicely and comes together at the end really well. Thanks for sharing.
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I really liked this, but all of the comma's were distracting, and it definitely took away a lot of the meaning in the poem for me. It's still good, though. Thank you for entering.
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