Poetry

Imogen, 30 december 2011

Isolation in a crowd

With the rose comes the thorn
With the day comes the night
With the sun comes the rain
For the win, you must fight

But where is my rose?
All I have is a thorn
Where is my light?
I am stuck without dawn
And where is my sun?
Will it ever come?
I have waited too long
To be rid of this storm.


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