THE WITHERED RED ROSE
How cruel the time has passed, her petals torn,
Withered and crumpled, it does scare.
Brought to the nothingness, the rose, forlorn,
Neglected, with no hope, no dreams to share
Not long ago these fragrant blooms stood tall
And smell as sweetly as soft breeze of summertime
But then with sadness, petals start to fall.
How time has taken youth in such a short time.
On bended knees, with hand on heart propose
And offer love, so sweet, with such a fast gift,
And must this be beloved by one red rose?
It Is a way to be sorry and to heal the rift.
This withered rose died slowly in your breast
And dreams of love are gently laid to rest.
Eleonora MASTROENİ, Italy