Fresh red roses gifted crisp in a shiny crystal vase,
Deflated balloon danced gaily on its bobbing string,
Yet, spent no time or change for late night dates
Or other stale, male-female things.
Dry- bent stems flatter-chattered their small talk cheap.
Eyes saddened dull cried their cruel half-truth lies.
Stare-glare glances pierced hearts drowned in trance-deep sleep
As tender petals withered brittle, tumbled pity-parched to dry .
Gripping death shriveled crippled, dripping its unfelt cold,
Against a strain-wrinkled, pain-crinkled face,
As pink waned to brown, bitter romance waxed old,
Mere dead rose tokens in a broken, ring stained vase.
~P.S. Colley
April 1989
Rev. Dec. 2024
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