Page 1, People always say romance is dead.

Red. It symbolises romance.

My heart beats. It pounds thinking about you.

I hold a rose against my chest and rip petals by petal.

Then I scatter it around me; Surrounded by love.

Red. It is heartbreak. For hurt. For blood.

But for each torn petal, a broken promise.

My heart bleeds and my heart, shattered.

All hope broken. Gone.. Destroyed. Love replaced for hate.

And as they say, romance is dead.

© Copyright 2013maystar All rights reserved. maystar has granted theNextBigWriter, LLC non-exclusive rights to display this work on Booksie.com.