red rose
I feel like
a red rose,
hanging at a rope,
to dry in the sun.
Stem through cut,
get no air,
bleeding dead,
wrinkling leaves,
discolor gloomily.
The moon shaded me
large and gloomily,
blood reflects, like gold.
Once I grew up
next to other roses,
in green grass.
Sun reached my heart,
blood streamed right through me.
Now ...
some eyes are looking at me,
I'm glittering in a vase,
lifeless.
And as only end for eyes
languish away next to the daisies and the butter flowers.
a red rose,
hanging at a rope,
to dry in the sun.
Stem through cut,
get no air,
bleeding dead,
wrinkling leaves,
discolor gloomily.
The moon shaded me
large and gloomily,
blood reflects, like gold.
Once I grew up
next to other roses,
in green grass.
Sun reached my heart,
blood streamed right through me.
Now ...
some eyes are looking at me,
I'm glittering in a vase,
lifeless.
And as only end for eyes
languish away next to the daisies and the butter flowers.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| bruja: | Woensdag, maart 03, 2004 15:22 |
| dankje ... doe mijn best hé. ((((((((knuffeltjes)))))))) |
|
| The unreachable: | Dinsdag, maart 02, 2004 18:51 |
| Fantastisch mooi gedicht! Je zou meer reacties moeten krijgen! Maarja, geef niet op, en doe zo voort met schrijven, ge doet da goed :) | |
