Box Of Roses


Sad love (A)

A weary rise, a smile senile

The vain deception of a walk suicide

Romance of days are drunk by night

Box of roses left behind

Hold thy heart while you hold the wine

The face of a dream on a vile new high

True I say the storm is gone

Clouds they laugh

As stars don’t shout

And don’t you hold,

For I won’t see

Till drops of rain

Rhyme with me.

And all the pain

Don’t feed them yours

For I, no longer feel.

My pride you priced, touché

And all my pine and plead, parlay

So let me sleep and away the fray

For I dreamt a box of roses

That none has claimed

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