A white rose

What if you were my one?
What if you were my all?
What if that day we never fought?
What if we had never said those unforgiving words?
What if. . .

Would you be here next to me?
Would I find you curled up next to me as the suns first rays shone lightly through our window. . .

If only. . .
If only he was not drunk. . .
If only I had not forced you to say those words. .
If only I had trusted you! . . .

Now here I stand before you.
With a white rose. . .
stained crimson,
among the dozen black roses.
Held tight in blood covered hands of mine.
I fall. . .
Down to the ground,
Next to you…


“Harsh words may lead to our self destruction. . .

Hasty actions; Will lead to our demise. . .

Parted in life; Now forever joined in death. .”
A white rose shall forever remain in memory of the lost lovers


2 thoughts on “A white rose

  1. Bethany says:

    That shadowy space in time of the “what could have been” is such a haunting place. You captured it well.

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