(First piece of poetry I've written in YEARS... So don't be taken back is it sucks.. Haha more posting soon XOXO, Liz)
Black roses.
Just as pretty as white,
Just as stunning as red.
Black roses.
The thorns are sharper,
Longer.
More threatening to the hand that holds it.
More like a weapon,
Masked with beauty and mystery.
Black roses.
The silent bearer of bad news.
The messenger on you rlonely stoop,
Telling the tale in its dark petals.
Never trust the black roses,
For it lies.
Its beauty is a hoax,
A sentence that kills your heart.
Little by little,
Or all at once.
Black roses.
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