Trepidation:
I exist with trepidation ,
The rose, my fixation.
A roses pulchritude,
Her natural beauty nude.
Her traits are seraphic,
Her beauty is dramatic.
If she left it would be traumatic.
A simple solution; semi-automatic
Her pedals bleed with red,
Her body pumped with lead.
She gave someone head,
I’ll cut her up like bread.
I’ll fish up her guts, and make my hands red.
Her beauty once so calming now filled with hate
After this, she would be in a terrible state.
Handed to many on a plate,
The perfect date.