Years ago
You would sit and listen to me cry on the phone
All of my troubles
Spilling my entire heart
In tears
And sobs
But now
I cry silently
Because you told me crying was for babies
And you wonder why I say nothing
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The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on the lips - John Boyle O'Reilly
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