Rose petals fall about me in a silent storm… I look down at my feet and realize every petal is a different color. I would dare to ask which is from you… but then I realize I don’t know who you are.

Up above my head where the petals rain down from I see a tree, now how could rose petals come from a tree? I look more closely and notice that the tree itself, while large above me, stands dead. Wrapped about its trunk and spread amongst its branches are many kinds of rose vines.

As new buds form, the old blossoms rain down quietly and slowly like a multicolored snow. I reach out with a pale hand and catch one, feeling its soft flesh as if a tender kiss from a lover. After moving it between my fingers I let it fall to the ground with the rest.

So as I sit here under this dead tree covered in roses, I think of you again only to realize I don’t know who you are. I sigh and look up again and I realize that I am much like the tree that looms over me: colorful and bright on the outside, but dead and rotten within.

-Written for a girl who will never know that it was written for her-

I had a dream about you one night for I thought of you that day,

We ran through forests of fun and autumn and went every which way.

Friendship of youth budding into a romance of the present,

We spent the day in fun as the night’s moon rose in a crecent.

We layed back and watched the stars talking of our lives,

Although the subject shifted to what on which our emotions thrive.

We pulled closer in an embrace, our lips about to touch,

When stars began to fall, they distracted us too much.

As we watched them fall I made a wish for this to never end,

For our freindship and love my heart this would mend.

But alas this didn’t come, it was a cruel joke,

For as the last star fell, from my dream I awoke.

So I lay here again thinking of you,

Wondering if love is too good to be true.