No pain is sharper
and cuts into me
deeper
than the pain caused
by watching the petals
fall off one I love.
I can stand the outside layers
falling
but when it gets to peeling
the inner core,
that is wretched.
Death disregards a rose's modesty
and lays it open and exposed.
Before the old I love die,
they are with me
but something is pulling
them away.
She will leave
even though I cry
and don't want her to leave.
Should I give her my tears
as a parting gift of love?