This poem talks about the relationship of two people. Their story resolves around the concept of Beauty and The Beast. Whenever problems arise, one of them has to take up a role that is, of Beauty or the Beast because either one is at fault. This poem is written from Beauty’s point of view who’d consider herself as the Beast when she is not. This is the last chapter of their story.
Aren’t you tired
From running in my mind?
Don’t mistaken this as love
The petals of the rose are withering
The dew drops had yet not melted
I tried to protect it
Bruised by the thorns it had injected.
The sun shines warmly
But it is still cold in my heart
My pale forzen hands pick up the withering rose
Darker than the color of blood
It seems frozen to bluish red
Only water couldn’t save it.
Once protected in a glass box
Unknowing of its fragility
It seemed strong enough to bare a few jabs of the wind
But this heart -like- delicate -glass was
No longer able to bear all your seasons
As soon as the winter arrived
It shattered into small pieces.
Say you’re sorry
Apologize The pieces can’t be fixed
But what’s the use
When I can no longer save the rose which was once meant for me and you?