Painted Woman
January 16th, 2009poetry
Why take a perfect rose
and bleach the color from her petals?
Why paint more red
onto a perfect sunset?
There walks a creature in these streets,
She might be beautiful
but we will never know.
poetry
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Not that this has anything to do with your poem directly, but I recall hearing at one point that a lot of the roses you can get in stores, they’ve bred the scent out of. I’m sure that’s a horrible sentence, but for some reason I can’t get the right words to make it better XD
@mike Really? I didn’t know that. That’s really sad. It might makes sense from an allergy perspective, but I’m pretty sure scent doesn’t have much to do with it. Brennan and his mom can’t really have living roses in the house at all. I’m going to be planting roses in the spring, and I hope to find the full-smell kind, lol.
This is lovely. I mean it – I’m not just saying that. I really like it.
nice poem