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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400002" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Two bunches of red roses</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400002" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I saw her drying out<br>two bunches of dark red roses<br>that I had given<br>to her, <br>which she hanged up high<br>in our bedroom.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400002" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She left some thorns<br>on the green stems<br>and the colour of the flowers <br>changed and become darker<br>and almost black.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400002" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The cups lost most<br>of their lovely fragrance, <br>but kept some<br>and became hard and dry<br>and brittle<br>and the leaves edges<br>lost their perfect shape.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=400002" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">With time the love<br>between us withered away<br>when she strayed to another<br>and respect and trust<br>was nowhere to be found<br>and I realised that love needs<br>to be a living thing.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</a></strong></div>

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