I came home with roses of the deepest red,
A poem and a speech prepared in my head.
A spring in my step and a song in my heart,
I'm ready to do all I can on my part.
Looming clouds rolling in roaming waves above,
Seem to me like beautiful, flying white doves.
So I pause outside with the roses in hand,
And am ready to take an active love stand.
I put my golden house key into the door,
And suddenly find it doesn't fit anymore.
The clouds are truly a desolate dark gray,
And in cold rain, I send memories away.
Their wandering eyes caught a stranger that night,
And for our love to stay, I promised I'd fight.
Betrayal thorns make the roses bloody red.
I drop them into the trash, broken and dead.