The Bleeding Rose

A light pink rose.

Nimesh Madhavan/Flickr

Weeping meadows weep.   

The rose is to bleed.  

It is of ages and it flourished…  

Only to be cut down and  

Have its wages garnished.  

Weep-the sun was once amazing.  

Now the daisies have become lazy.  

Weeping meadows weep…  

The crown of thorn has been worn…  

The skin has been torn. 

A version of this poem was previously published in The Ethiopian Herald newspaper. 

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