The Rose

The Rose
I found you almost dead, 
with your withered petals, giving up.
Your leaves, still, waiting for death.
You were a frozen red, so little
and innocent to life's emotion.

I was hopeless just as you were,
my life had lost its shine.
I was stuck in the midst of confusion.
The people i knew, suddenly had
new faces ; i couldn't recognize their joyous smiles,
full of mockery.
Love was turning an unrealistic dream
fading out of reach.
Anger and Sorrow were my only friends,
surrounding me.
keeping me me warm and 
sweating.
And Happiness stood out the door,
 shivering.
yes, my smiles, melted on my still face
while she tried to break through the door
to blend in, to forget her frozen state.

your worn out existence, comforted me,
giving me company.
i'm not alone.

You looked palely beautiful
at the very moment.
 You breathed me to go on with life
even if there are a million thorns
preventing mirth.
You died the next day, your petals
cold and stained.
yet you left that trace of hope 
within me,
 that life without anguish 
is a life incomplete.

i wrote this poem when i was sad( back at school). usually its not the case. i scribble my feelings on a white small paper until it became blue. this time it was different as (i feel now) that i let out my grief in a more elegant form.its just that i realized  that there are times when life is not very kind but you still got to believe in that voice within you to hold on and wait. that voice that only you trust and can hear.  and only you can wish to follow it.