The Rose
#9 of Poetry
This is something i forgot i had in my hard drive. This was made about a year ago, though sadly i have forgotten the meaning to this poem. I will let you guys decide on what it means.
Something's changed
The clouds turn black
And the demons still remain insane
Everyday is a new battle of survival
Hearing the usual daily quotes
"Survival of the fittest"
"The weak will perish"
As i look into the mirror
I see the imperfect being
Looking closer i realize it's me
Bleeding from my head to my knees
The ashes smeared all over my face
And all i see is despair
The demons gather around me
beating me down to the ground
their words, their insults
cutting through my skin like knifes
I look in their eyes
I see the hate
burning like leprosy
As they finally leave me to be
My blood leaving a stain of pain and sorrow
I stand once more to try and carry on
i look down on the ground and i see a red rose
I pick up the rose and i start to see in the horizon
More roses on the ground
But they are withered and colored black
I realize why they are black
People that have fallen or could not bear going on
And the red, showing that i have survived
Despite all the hell that i went through
I became one of the survivors
I walk forward
To face whatever may come my way