They Call Me Rose

©2009-2011 =armene

They call me Rose.

The one with scarlet petals

The color of red wine

(grape juice for those

who don’t drink)

The crimson of berries

Trodden under naked feet

(they don’t say blood

for that would be unholy)

They call me Rose

(that’s not my name,

it’s not)

because they say

I have thorns.

I pricked them once.

(I don’t see any scars)

 

They call me Rose

because I wilt too soon.

(conversations do get boring)

They call me Rose

(Even though I have a better name)

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6 thoughts on “They Call Me Rose

  1. willowdot21 says:

    “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” sad poem but I did not really understand it ……….. Sorry

  2. Nas says:

    This reminds me of the song, “That’s not my name”. Can’t remember who it is by though xD.

    Have a lovely weekend!
    🙂

  3. To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else. – Emily Dickinson

  4. […] Most Pride Worthy: They Call Me Rose […]

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