The Rose
I used to think a rose
An overrated thing
Too talked up
And too clich�
But I have learned
A rose is meant to be
Not just seen but
Taken in in every way
I�ve seen the supple petals
And looked inside
Seeking the nonexistent core
I�ve run the blossom
Over my lips
And known the softness
And the redness
And the tenderness
I�ve tried to find
The heart that�s surely broke
For the fragile head
Droops so low
And the blushing face
Hides its tears
Which come at sleep
Disguised as dew