Glass Rose

GLASS ROSE

I walk into the garden.
Wishing for some kind of pardon.
Flowers emerge from all the lies. 
The many colors strain my eyes.

Every color lays before me.
Every shape possible I see.
My choice is endless.
My decision is hopeless.

The only one for me is made of glass.
Clear - yet I still let her pass.
Why do I see through.
The only thing true.

My sight blinded by the endless colors.
They could never be my lovers.
I am only drawn one.
Her beauty is never done.

It seems to always grow.
When my eye lids are low.
I sense her all around.
Yet, all I see is ground.

Her scent is hypnotic.
Her love for me - platonic.
The rose is a myth inside my chest.
With thorns that wont let me rest.

It’s something better left alone.
Though, the seed is already sown.
From it grows the most beautiful being.
Through my soul the flower is singing.

Her glass pedals are thin.
Which means I will never win.
So I remain froze.
To the glass rose.
                              -BM




{This was my first attempt at writing a poem (2010)}