National Poetry Month: Roses Are Red

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Roses Are Red


Roses are red, my love,
soft crimson
or scarlet
The colour of velvet wine
so cloying
like blood
I remember the red rain
that night
petals falling
And the half open window,
breeze fluttering
spattered curtains
Roses are red, my love
bang, bang
you’re dead




© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved




4 Comments on “National Poetry Month: Roses Are Red

  1. I kind of was expecting a violent ending, though I was betting on a stabbing! I enjoyed it, well done.

    Liked by 1 person

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