Uriah Hamilton - Acquiesce

At the incline
Of the mountain,
Wild roses bloom
Dark red
Like the puddle
Of blood
At a murder scene.

I slowly walk alone
The hillside of isolation
Like an Easter Parade
Depleted of joy
And reduced to a funereal dirge.

I don’t think,
She will ever understand
How badly I was hurt
When she refused to acquiesce
To give me her hand.

Uriah Hamilton

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/acquiesce/