Life is a topsy-turvey course of events that takes us to places and introduces us to people we would never have imagined. When all is said and done all we can do is sit back, enjoy the ride and learn from all that we encounter.


Beautiful colors of pinks, yellows, reds and oranges
fill the rose garden that is life;
providing happiness and smiles
showing love and affection to those who are special to us.

Yet amongst all of these beautiful roses there are also black roses,
not the ones people say are really deep purple,
but a pure deep black.

These roses represent the hurt and sadness in life.

Some people have only a few scattered within their garden, but my garden has many;
in fact there are entire sections of my garden where only these roses grow.

My roses too are unique in that when they open and blossom they appear to cry tears of crimson;
a phenomenon others do not understand,
since as others pass by my garden all they see are the beautiful colored roses along the perimeter,
they do not look inside where the roses that thrive are the black, bleeding roses of my life.

I have been told in time these roses will adapt and change gaining the color of the other roses,
but when?

It has been almost 30 years and I do not know that much has changed.

Perhaps at times these black roses were not quite so prominent and did not grow so large,
but they have still remained.

A few certain friends have stopped to observe my garden and have seen the darkness within,
it scares them I know,
because it scares me even after 30 years of living with it.

I live my days now wondering when the black, bleeding roses will take over the rest of the garden
choking out the color around the perimeter
leaving me with a garden of death.


© fallenangel 3/04/2009