The blood red rose

Wilted leaves of bright brown,
A lilly floating in water like a gown,
Neglected in the world is a poor girl so sad,
Screaming for love in a place of bad,

Hit to the floor and the ground starts to shake,
A supposed peaceful planet starts to quake,
But only around her and those who live that life,
When they are older they love the knife,

Screams are heard from the neighbour\'s house number three,
A tear seeps from my eye as I wish for them to be free,
To let them triumph over them in such violence,
As they scream nothing is done and it may as well be silence,

This girl with hair to long for whenever shes around,
But shed swap that for to be picked up from the ground,
Her eyes are the most beautiful thing youd ever see,
But shes a beautiful disaster just let her be,

Her skin just like the leaf of brown,
But so gorgeous like the lilly like a gown,
Her skin dying,
Her eyes are crying,

Hands are wrapped around her neck,
Shes strangled to a helpless wreck,
A white rose blooms in her room,
And takes away some of the gloom,

But a blade creates it to stain red,
Because of it shes know bled,
A rose now blood red but its colour drips,
But not only from the flower but from the girl who grips,

It oozes from and to the roses petals so slow,
Her blood wet and silent like her screams,
Death is all she dreams. . .