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The Rose

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Cold to the bone,
Like stone.
I shake.
The concrete,
Beneath my feet.
I walk, and excrete, the odor of death.
The city surrounding,
While the clouds seem to linger,
Head down, nose frozen,
Every immovable finger gasping,
For the little heat I possess.

Garden beds draped with snow.
As the inches grow,
Extinguishing every life it touches.
Luscious now diminished.

I glance to see a rose.
Tiny and withering,
But belittling.
Despite its burgundy color,
Its posture so profound.
Mounded like the snow is its will.
Like a water mill, never stopping.
I see not one leaf dropping.
And for once, the cold does not affect me.
Staring, nearly glaring at the greenery,
Could it be so bold?
Withstanding the weather,
That could sever,
Nearly any endeavor,
With a quick, numbing breeze.

I rid the lack of self determination.
Now engulfed with inspiration,
I continue my walk on the hard, cold surface.
And like a dream, I pursue,
With an upbeat stride.
And a rose forever more on my mind.




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This article has 4 comments. Post your own!

Greek311 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
May 21, 2009 at 11:18 pm:
Thank you all so much for your kind words. I appreciate that someone is noticing my poems.
 
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bethy said...
May 21, 2009 at 11:00 pm:
These poems are on first reading incredible and thought-provoking. I need to reread them to absorb, but they are the work of a very talented poet/writer. Thanks for posting them.
 
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supakewl#1 said...
May 20, 2009 at 3:00 am:
Good luck on becoming the writer you have always dreamed of becoming. I plan on being a poetry and scary story writer when I grow up :) Comment on my work anytime ya want to!!!!!
 
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RheaD.Ravenfinger This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
May 19, 2009 at 2:31 am:
Your name reminds me of an old crush I had. Your poem is truelly beautiful honestly. Five stars. I think you are a pretty nice guy. :)
 
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