I want to tell the story about roses.
Not those, that blossom simply everywhere
But flowers that are grown for only purpose
To stay one day in vase, and to be thrown somewhere.
Once I saw roses lying on the ground
Their dead beauty struck me at a sight.
They will be lying there until they will be found
And thrown away if someone has a right.
They were the beauty of the day and someone
Were patting their petals whispering words
And they forgot their garden where they"ve grown up
And only garden knows how this behavior hurts.
But then, without sight of mercy
Some hand threw them away… and that was what I"ve found
I shivered, cause I saw red roses
But they were dead and lying on the ground.
A story about roses
© Copyright: Илюша Зернов, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113031800049
Свидетельство о публикации №113031800049
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