The sweet smell of scarlet fills mind
Very few of them get to see
Especially since they’re never kind
Those sleepy eyes say they have the key
To stop the rose petals from drifting away
I sit on the branch of the weeping tree
The thorns are red and are here to stay
I’m not surprised when tired eyes get angry
The burgundy drips from my arm
No matter what I do, I can never flee
I’m awakened by the sound of my alarm
But when I look the roses are still on me
--Toby M., 9th-12th Grade