Blood Red Rose

Blood red rose from admirer in secret
I look upon you with disdain and confusion
Your color deep and menacing
Your thorns sharp and painful
Yet supposedly your meaning is one of love
Ha! I scoff at the gesture
This rose is no symbol of love
Tis but a reminder of my torment
My sorrow
Admirer in secret
You fool to think a simple rose of blood would make me smile
Would open up my heart to you
You fail miserably in that attempt
For I feel nothing toward this rose but contempt and loathing
Blood rose of red turn ashen gray
Like the confines of my heart