Her lips are that of a crimson cherry Her beauty sharper than the edge of a sword Her dulcet tone mild but could make minds Drift for a while. Rose was divine But she was never mine. I stare from within closed blinds My irritable annoyance of shy holding me close by Why can’t these words come out for me to tell her hi? Amazement flashes through my eyes My mind now pedaling towards a dream Captured and prison in the captivation of her beauty A silent origin of love plants Rose in my garden. Rose was divine But she was never mine. Hand by hand they go His palm now caressing her face Jealousy abruptly tied around my neck like a lace A gush of blood stream through my veins Making my heart fell below my waist. How can feelings make a man so disgruntle? She turned her face and love once again Begin to flow over like fountain Her distant smile is an innocent baby A supple like skin tone makes her reminiscence Of a just picked red rose. Rose was divine But she was never mine.