The last time I saw the red rose the pain was unbearable
Like a knife twisting in my sides, eating at my soul
I knew someday the pain would depart
That, at times, was the most painful part
In a perverse way, the pain made me feel alive
When it went away, some of myself wouldn't survive
Space and time now separated me from the rose
Memories, dreams and hypotheticals take me from smiles to sorrows
I still wonder if I could have the rose in my possession
Sometimes I smile, sometimes I'm sad, that with the rose I only had a session
Whatever I feel or felt, one thing is for sure
When in the presence of the rose, never have I felt so alive and so pure
Please check out my new books, "Bullied to Death: Chris Mackney's Kafkaesque Divorce and Sandra Grazzini-Rucki and the World's Last Custody Trial"
Sunday, February 1, 2009
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