May 28, 2010

Miscarriage


There’s a rose on the windowsill
Swaddled in a cloak of sunlight
Sometimes curled asleep in a bud
Or crying pink fragrant tears.

They say pain is a necklace of roses,
Everyone wears one --
A necklace of thorns
Clawing at the place where
Part of my heart has gone.

But the fragrance is still here
Lingering like a sweet memory
Though your time was fleeting
The rose still blooms for you.

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