Raindrops on Roses

It has been said
That roses are red,
And violets are blue.
But if I would find my way,
Roses would be black,
And Violets would be Violet.
But I’m no god.
So as I walk this path alone,
I dream about my black roses,
And smile at my violet violets.
I’d lie down amidst them,
Inhaling their sweet sensuous smell,
Dreaming more dreams.
I’d wait on them,
Until the midnight dew falls on them.
And the best of sight I’d see
Would be rain,
Failing on the petals
Of my black roses.


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