A Poem

So Gerrit this is for you.  You said that you wanted to read one of my poems.  If you make fun of me or try to convince me that it is good I will punch you.

The poem is called Blue Rose

Oh Blue Rose Oh Blue Rose How did you become so?

Did man kind paint you or were you dipped in a rainbow?

My Dear part of your question is quite very true

Man kind did not paint me but did make me blue

They told me I was lovely when I was a red rose

And would stop others from squashing me with their many toes

They plucked me and forced me to look pretty and proud

But they slowly were killing me, for my roots were left in the ground

Then I began to turn brown and was attracting the flies

They threw me in a garbage pile with no thank yous or goodbyes

A bird came a long and flew me across the open sky

Then a big storm blew me from the grasp of that feathery guy

From a high hieght I tumbled past the trees to right here

Where I have been alone and unwanted for quite a few years

Left alone to sulk in my sorrows and nothing else to do

After some time my tears turned my brown pedals to blue