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Plucked

A poem about the end of love

By Rachel DeemingPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read
Plucked
Photo by Bryan White on Unsplash

My love is like a red, red rose - plucked.

Only its thorny stem remains.

Thin, twisted, spiky, alone.

What should I do with it?

Memorialise?

Or take scissors

And snip it

Into

Bits?

heartbreaklove poems

About the Creator

Rachel Deeming

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:

Medium

My blog

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    Written by Rachel Deeming