A Rose Is Always A Rose

I dreamed it was many years later
and I had grown old
I was afraid to show myself to you
As your wild rose had lost
her bright red colour
And her petals didn’t have
the same strength,
But were hanging down
I was afraid you wouldn’t love me no more
You wouldn’t even recognize me
And maybe, even prefer another rose
Shyly I looked at you
But you, beautiful you
You didn’t even see my wrinkles
You only looked in awe
Locked with my eyes once again
And touched base
with the timeless beauty
inside the rose’s heart


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