THE RED ROSE'S DANCE
One stormy day,
A tiny red rose
Was torn apart.
Savagely, I might add.
It's crimson petals
Scattered into tiny pieces,
And madly danced
With the mad wind.
Dance and dance
And dance it goes,
Dance and dance
Into highs and lows.
Each tiny broken pieces
Gained life of their own,
And each danced
To its own tune,
To its own song.
But one lonely speck of red
Fell into a snow-white heaven
That turned out to be
My grandma's white rose garden,
And there, I watched it,
Striking as it should be,
Dance to its own melody.
Dance and dance
And dance so madly.
(A16.18)
The Red Rose's Dance
Author
Bad Storm
no thought, head empty
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