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Black Rose
Beautiful and unique
But also, quite terrifying
Alone in a bed of colorful flowers
Always left unwanted.
Beautiful black rose
Alone and thorny
Different and feared
None appreciates its beauty.
Many wanted to pick it
But no one dared to reach it
The only one left among its peers
A new generation now surrounds it.
I’ve watched it for quite some time
It is as lonely as me
I picked it up and carried it back home
Decided it to plant it in a pot
I will take care of this rose
So, we’ll no longer be alone
I will appreciate your uniqueness
Because we are as lonely as each other.
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Black Rose
A solitary black rose stands alone in a garden of colors, beautiful yet feared, unwanted yet unbroken. Its dark petals whisper of isolation, strength, and the longing for connection. When someone finally dares to embrace its uniqueness, two lonely souls find solace in each other’s presence.
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The Illusion of Freedom
Dave White’s Willow and Kiana Jimenez’s Binds reveal the paradox of freedom and captivity. The weeping willow’s branches drape like chains, echoing the poem’s lament of unseen binds. Yet both art and verse insist on resilience, reminding us that even in sorrow, a fragile thread of hope persists.
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The Clockmaker’s Daughter
When the clockmaker built his daughter, the villagers whispered. Her laughter rang like cracked bells, her eyes ticked with restless dials. Then came the nights of backward clocks, haunted laughter, and screams in the dark. He built her to keep time—or so they thought. But she was made to end it.