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Old Poems
The Heart

Look at what i found
Broken inside my chest.
I sewed it up with love,
And i give it to the best!


Roses

When roses wither,
Their petals fall and die,
The gardener didn't care,
He left them to lie.


The Nature of Love

Life is like a rose
As we grow, we gain thorns.
They represent the bad times.
Each petal that blooms is the good.
We are all beautiful and will continue to grow like our love.
When we wither and die that is when our road is done,
And all the petals begin to fall....





 
 
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