The Blood Red Rose
A solitary rose,
it could not understand
why it was deprived of life
by the cultivator's hand.
A solitary rose,
clutched in a mourner's fingers
waits the presenting of the flag
as the last note of "Taps" still lingers
A solitary Rose,
it could not understand
why its life was at the mercy
of the passing of this man.
A solitary Rose
wise beyond its time
is accepting of its fate
as the mourners stand in line
A solitary rose
flung upon a box of wood.
feels the sun a final time
as it is covered up for good.
Our ancestors made sacrifice
to expiate their sin.
The blood red rose, symbolic
of what flows beneath our skin.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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