I saw the roses you got me.
They were beautiful.
They had thorns,
Much like our relationship,
The red as deep as the lipstick I wear,
To impress you on dates,
The smell as intoxicating as yours when we hug.
But the biggest similarity you have with the roses;
They wilted and faded after sometime,
Just like you did.
Zakkiyah Ibrahim is a poet and student living in Freetown, Sierra Leone
