Carluke High School: Megan McGinty

Withered Rose

I am a single red rose sitting on your windowsill,
I have withered but I have not been replaced.
Every now and then you get a whift of my distinct smell;
although it has long since faded.

I am those salty tears which you keep safely behind your eyes;
I will easily burst those banks
and will roll down your face for hours afterwards.

I am a room full of laughter suffocated by a deadly silence,
I will always linger there.

I am the scar you will never forget; a wound that has healed.
Yet I will still ache whenever I am brought to mind.

by Megan McGinty