• The Rose a simble of life, of love, and of death. Life is only filled with pain. Love the one thing to ease the pain of life's hardships. Death the end of the pains of life and the begening of a new life. These three are forever intertwined together, in perfect harmony, and we only have the right of passage. We live, we love, we die. the white rose the simble of life and yet the simble of hardship, pain to know you are going to always mess up and become flawed. The red rose, simble of love, but also of pain, we love only for a moment, but we are driven apart and left with bitter tears. The final rose is perfect in every way, no flaws, no pain, it is the black rose, the simble of death and the end.
    The end of pain, the end of life, the end of you. So hear my plea, and turn away please. We are not ment to live to love. But to love to live, and to my love i say to you the last poem of my last words.
    Rose's are red,
    My love is true,
    I ran through the thorns,
    Just for you.
    My rose.


    Poem by, Michael E. Lapp