Roses Spite, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

It’s no delight,
In dead of night
To be alone,
By a silent phone
What was once then
Has met an end
A thorn that pricks
Has made me sick
Dashing hopes
My mind plays tricks
Knots have bound me
No love has found me
No love beside me
Half bed empty
Left and lonely
Call me, call me
No one can hear me
Photograph faded
I’ve paid dearly
Surely, surely
A cure to be found
But not as long
As the rose is around.
(end)