This Site best viewed with Internet Explorer 4.0
(800 X 600, True Color)
The Thorns of the Rose
Sure, love is like a rose,
Which blooms from a bud
Into a beautiful flower.
But don't forget the thorns
Which also grow longer
And sharper with time.
For after the rose withers,
All that remains is a memory -
And the thorns of the rose.
Oct. 14, 1992
Copyright 1998/1999 by Arthur Gill. All rights reserved.
The contents of this page, unless otherwise noted, are the property of Arthur Gill, and may not be reproduced without the written consent of the author.
