She sits in her garden,
smelling the roses.
She thinks about her love.
He doesn't know
who she is,
and she's too scared
to ask.
Just thinking about
him puts her in
a trance.
She sits there
thinking and smelling
the red roses.
Her finger hits the
thorn of a red
rose.
Her unrequited love
and her pain
causes there to be
teardrops on a red rose.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Behind the Mask
RandomThis is my first book. All of these poems are real to me. Please comment if you like it, but no hate please. Enjoy!!!