4
By Jehangir Saleh
Written:  August 24, 2003

I gave to you
A poem entitled
Rose
You approved of thorns
But would never accept
The stems or petals

Dried roses are like dead men
Who have lost their minds
Wilted, wrinkled
But remain shaped
As they were
During their last breath
Look at a your dead rose
Although layered with dust
Inhabited by spiders
It is still a rose
Until someone shakes it
And then the petals
Finally defeated
Fall

I hope my rose
Is collecting dust
In the company of a spider
Until the day you decide
It was never
Really a rose
(only a poem)
and throw it away