Rose-blood red.

Funny, isn't it?
This rose stands so beautiful,
It brings colour to this dark room,
Don't you think?
Of course you do.
Red, obviously.
The colour of love!
So much romance behind a rose,
And only because its colour.
Have you seen a black rose, darker then night? I never have.
Prehaps they don't grow.
Or that they are too dark for us to know.
What's that you say?
This rose is dripping, you are right.
Dripping blood.
Because roses aren't the only things that are red.
Blood drips along the petal,
Trailing down the stem and to the point of the thorn, only to drop on my white floor.

This was the first rose I ever found, and it pricked my hand.