I grew roses , and lilies and irises, And maybe they'd be Better company Their colours and hues Brighter and better Than the darkest shades of people around. The lilies were white, pristine and elegant The colour of calm, they said it was The color of endings, they did not say. The irises were blue, royal and lively The colour of peace and serenity alike But they were also, the color of my wounds, Fresh and ripe, hurtful and throbbing. And then I grew roses , the deadliest of all The red, the colour of love and passion And also, the colour of the lurking evil Together with its sinister deeds. The flowers did little, But bring back flashes Of memories of hate, And absolute cruelty They are, no more The symbols of beauty For to me, they are Bearers of grief Merely in disguise.