One gloomy day, I found a rose
Who’s rose was it, I wondered. Who knows?
I put my hand out to grab it, naive
But it had an energy that me believe
The rose seemed so bright and red
It had the cure for night and dead
Upon a closer look, I saw another’s name etched
Suddenly, the idea of the rose being mine seemed farfetched
Now, I’m more careful the next time I have my hand outstretched..
A Collection of Poems 