THE ROSE

THE ROSE
Some say love it is a river. That drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razor. That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love it is a hunger. An endless aching need.
I say love it is a flower. And you it is only seed.
It’s the heart afraid of breaking. That never learn to dance.
It’s the dream afraid of waking. That never takes the chance.
It’s the one Who won’t be taken. Who can’t seem to give.
And the soul afraid of dying. The never learns to live…!!!! Trang Toan