your roses

Roses are Red,

Violets turn blue,

because love bleeds and turns cold

when it comes from you...

forget-me-nots plead,

but still are forgotten.

I planted loves seed,

whose fruits and blossom I've never gotten.

your roses are red,

with thorns that make it a pain to hold.

you make violets turn blue,

suffocated from all the lies that they've been told.