Unfurl, the red awaits, Like a rose, Learning to bloom again Yet so does the wisdom, Patiently, it will come After the rose has bloomed, The flame is gone Shattered, The glass seems to break The petals all fall of, Yet this appearance. No one seems to recognize It is mesmerizing, How often one sees, That the sins of the senile Were not sins but seeds Seeds, for the future, That would pave a path away From the sorrowful hearts, That ail our burdened home Remember, the seeds are in you Recognize you are naught but a seed Naught but a sapling yet to grow A Sapling that would do well, To conform with a different tree And a different seed -Poem Fanatic