Red Rose

• Aisha Wilson, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2018

you were a rose
lips red with lovely lies
flowing like honey from your tongue
I felt your thorns
but the blood from my hands
only reddened their hue
and I thought it was beautiful
so I let you prick me.
I thought you were everlasting
immortal in your scarlet sanctuary
but all things rot and die
and so the petals turned brown
from the sour taste of deceit
and dropped from the stem
leaving behind only thorns
that pierced my hands
and my heart