Pink Poetry

I am the pink rose, scorned, tired.

I bloomed in youth

Perfumed the air with my fire

burst in proud glory

s  p  a  r  k  l  i  n  g

shining my soul unabashedly.

But the sun scorched my soul

clouds refused me rain.

w i t h e r i n g

I remain pink, soft, fragrant

in my soul where I reside.

Shine On!

xo