Authors note:
This poem is about my cousin, April, who has helped me through tough times and helped me shape the person who I am today.
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I am a rose
But one that is dead
My leaves are crusted
And my petals are dark red
I have wilted
My stem can no longer hold up my rose
Which is unpleasant to others
As a rotten sent fills their nose
My thorns are sharper than before
I prick people's fingers
And now they fear to go near me
For my sting still lingers
Others might not like me
But only one does
And she sits in her room
Unbothered by my flaws
Her name is a month
Which brings flooding rain
And I'd soak up her tears
Helping take away the pain
She helps my wilting
By giving me water and love
And now my petals are red
Like the color of love
I am there for her too
By giving her company and good scent
Because she is always there for me
And I cherish every moment spent
April's showers
Brings my flowers
And my rose is now in bloom
YOU ARE READING
Poets poetry
PoetryThese are simply random poems. Some may be personal to me but I hope my poetry will help you get through tough times, for it has helped me.
