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The Rose Bush And The Bricks
by David Pekrul
copyright 06-12-2005


Age Rating: 10 to 127

 
Perched on a hill is a little rose bush,
With a small pile of bricks stacked beside it,
And people walk by, but they don’t even see,
For the houses and businesses hide it.

She knows it is there and visits each day,
And the memories forever will haunt her,
For she looks to the past, a past that is cold,
And the voices continue to taunt her.

She was only sixteen when she met a young man,
A man she knew only as Charlie,
A man with a record and known by the law,
A biker who rode a big Harley.

She was out for adventure and wanted a ride,
He asked her, “ Now, where can I take you?”,
They headed out west and fell madly in love,
And she said, “I will never forsake you”.

They travelled the highways, enjoying each day,
And never took thought of tomorrow,
When Charlie was with her, she hadn’t a care,
And thought she would never have sorrow.

They say that a leopard cannot change its spots,
And the apple falls close to the tree,
When Charlie and her crossed the line of the law,
They thought they could run and get free.

They first robbed a store and then robbed a bank,
The money was coming quite easy,
Then Charlie went crazy and murdered a cop,
The sight of the blood made her queasy.

Her parents had pleaded that she would come home,
And that she would stop all her running,
But she would not listen for she was in love,
She figured each day would be sunny.

But after the murder, her world turned around,
She knew in her heart they were right,
But love for this bandit had blinded her eyes,
And they would go down with a fight.

They hid in a shack, in the woods on a hill,
They figured that they would be safe,
But they did not realize that they had been watched,
And cops had surrounded the place.

The gunshots rang out, first one then another,
It looked like the start of the end,
When Charlie collapsed in a large pool of blood,
She knew she had lost her best friend.

Now all that is left of that shack on the hill,
Is a rose bush and pile of bricks,
And a past that is cold, and voices that taunt,
For a woman, whose love never quit.


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06-13-2005 Anthony Lane Stahlhut    

This Bonny and Clyde story rings true. The biker goes bad and kills a cop. The story is not new, but the way you told it was nice. It reads well and flows good and you weaved it in and out like a master, Anthony


06-12-2005 James Shammas    

A little long for me. I almost wonder whether a story like this would fair better in almost a prose-poem type of format. I do very much like the juxtaposition of the rosebush and the bricks, though. She almost seems the personification of the former, he, that of the latter. Neat.

Jim


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