Roses too, grieve.

Like tides of a stormy sea

that rises and falls in the night

to welcome a new dawn with a beautiful sight

of a calm shore, and, fine sand that we oft° crave to see

we'll rise and dust our knees again

like roses, that oft° cry and cover their scars

we'll wipe the tears that blurs

for our strength from the morning sun we'll regain.

Roses have grieved and with them we cry

when we let them wither on our loved ones red mound

roses too love, and with them we've created a bond

to share love and for disappointments decry.

With tides and roses our dreams to the sea we'll take

never again to inter our hopes before we wake.

Bunguswa Writes.