I was offering you
A glass of water
You asked for
The flower
I was wearing on my hair
A small tube rose
You insisted for
Only that one
I wore
Gladly you tucked it
On your shirt
And went away
Wearing my heart
On your heart
Did you know
I was going with you?
Over the years
Is the tube rose still there?
How many times
Has that scene replayed
Through the memory’s window?
Every time
I see a tube-rose
Or a rose
Or any other flower
I feel overwhelmed
By the fragrance
As it is not you or me
But the love
That filled the small tube rose.
A Tube Rose
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