Black rose

spilleronsheet

In its prime 

youth shines

amidst the green lawn

an aloof rose stands

 

Everyone wanted to be red

they chose to be one 

red, yellow and orange

few chose to lead 

turning violet, blue and peach

but that one striking among the masses

grew to slow

admiring the environment 

it chose to be immature

 

now is the time 

after observing a while

let the lion roar

tell them you haven’t forgotten how to soar,

no memory is bad

you just lack to sharpen your blade, 

practice makes the winner at test 

you shall lead amongst the rest

 

when all sleep

in amber deep

you awake

you run

you practice

make mistakes to correct them

amidst the whole crowd of mature

you chose humour upon

hiding the streak of seriousness

 

play with mind this deal

In order to seal

the battle deal

 

a black rose blooming upon a hill

watching the sea from a cliff…

 

Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

✔ Receive the ebook in seconds ✔ 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments4

  • Violet bluebell( used to be yellow rose)

    Engaging great writing , spiller ., I liked reading your words ., ) I think even when we are different or not as far as others may be .. we can still bloom in our own way or reach a better place

    • spilleronsheet

      We surely will bloom in the most exotic way….

    • Rozina

      I agree. Many of us 'fear' to be or act different because of what people might think of us. It is this difference that has led to great ideas and creations...Enjoyed your poem.

      • spilleronsheet

        Thanks dear Rozina….its been a while having read from you…

      • Neville



        I personally quite like to be different ..
        this is an inspiring bit of poetry that will either shock or appeal greatly to those who stumble upon it .. I fall into the latter category ......... N x

        • spilleronsheet

          Glad you are the courageous black rose dear Neville

        • wise.word.weilder

          I could visualize how a child(black rose) breaks through the monotonous expectations of society. Falling, making mistakes, still believing in self, playing with what he has, and blooming at the cliff. Indelible!

          • spilleronsheet

            Thanks dear Bubblehead…we at MPS, I assume are black roses in this world of garden….



          To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.