Short Poetry - "The Rose is Almost Dead"

The rose is almost dead.

Clinging to its stem with a hunchback droop,

Its petals have turned black and ruby violet,

Shriveled and cold like a bruised eye

That throbs and swells with the same violent colors.

One by one they fall and cover my windowsill,

Counting down the days until nothing is left,

Sitting in a jar of putrid water, where the sun shines

And graces it with the essence of life,

The rose rots peacefully, quietly, ultimately.

Another petal has fallen.

The rose is dying.

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dxlffkk

omgomg I liked your poem, it's nice ♡

thank you! there is a dying rose on my windowsill that i don't want to let go so i cope by writing about it ^_^

pooohh That's cute 🌹 :D