Rose

What’s with the nail polish?
All black makes you look
Sick…
You’re cute, try pink
Let my actions
My opinions
Most mightier than though
Push you to my idea
Of Full Potential
Black hair, Black eyes
Pale skin, Rosy cheeks
Need be dressed only in
Dust of Cotton Candies
You could be so Pretty
If you just tried
Trust my uneducated
Non-artistic of any kind

Expertise in pigment palettes
Dull the crimson
Lighten the red
Passion is only acceptable
In the form of magenta
You can be pastel if you want
But pink is only hot on me

Don’t try to be what you aren’t
You can’t
It wasn’t meant to be,
From the minute you were born.
What’s in a name?
Your entire existence
Every first impression,

Packaged context, and last judgment
Whether you can live with it
Or not. Don’t
Posies follow roses
And rings all around
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Cities crumble eventually
But legacies are forever
What’s it short for?
Rosita? Rosalind? Rosemary?
Close but not quite…..

…..Latina?
Rose …… Petra
Unique, immortal, so far
7th wonder of the world since 2007
Quite a color

On that ancient Nabataean city
A Namesake to literally say, “Pink Rock”
In case anyone asks
Such a Perfect Setup
For a darling baby girl
Small, Petite
Black hair, Black eyes
Tiny, weak
Pale skin, rosy cheeks
Anxious Furious
Wilted petals, twisted thorns
Names don’t predict futures
Names are neutral labels
But they carry far more weight

than estimated at birth
I was forged with flowers
To fit this sweet feminine mold
And I just can’t,

not even won’t but shan’t
This floral crown has never fit
Even as I sit upon this throne
The walls of the kingdom

I’ve repainted
Yet I cannot stand

next to the royals before me
Their rose crest hangs too high and too distant.
They could never imagine

How many innocent pink buds,
Have bloomed too bloody

Before my very eyes
Only to blacken as fragments

Of the loving beauty

they were supposed to bring

The Flower Girl – April 2016