The Rose

This is an old story poem that I wrote a couple years ago. Hope you enjoy!


The Rose

One time as I was rushing by,
I stepped upon a rose
And didn’t even notice it
‘Till the scent had struck my nose.

I felt sorry for the poor little thing,
Its crimson petals crushed,
But I couldn’t stop to fix it
So on my way I rushed.

And as I went I saw a man
Living in a cardboard box.
He had no coat, no blanket;
He had no shoes, no socks.

For a moment I paused and thought about
The coat that I now wore;
I thought about my nice, warm bed
And the meal I had in store.

But I was far to busy
To stop and tell him hi,
So I tossed to him a quarter
And quickly passed on by.

Just then I saw an old woman
Bearing a heavy load
Trying to get over to her car
Parked there across the road.

But I couldn’t stop to help her.
I had something else to do.
And so I set my eyes ahead
And hurriedly passed on through.

Then alas I arrived at the place
To which I had to go.
I at last arrived at the church;
I’m a member there, you know.

I listened to the preacher
And cherished every word
Until all of a sudden
I was struck by what I heard.

The pastor spoke about the time
When our Lord was crucified.
He compared our Lord to a crimson rose;
At his words I nearly cried.

I thought about the flower
That my hurried feet had crushed,
Of the crimson bud upon the ground
I stepped on as I rushed.

And as I thought about the flow’r
In my mind’s eye I saw
A man living in a cardboard box
And a woman, three in all.

So ever since that moment
I take my time to see
Just what it is that the Lord
Has in store for me.

Now every time I see a man
Living in a cardboard box
Without a coat or blanket,
Lacking shoes or socks,

And every time I see someone
With a burden in their arms,
I do all that I know I can
To shield them from all harms.

‘Cause every time I see a face
I hear the question God will pose:
“Will you help the least of these?”
And I think about the rose.


4 thoughts on “The Rose

  1. I love this poem. It definitely reminds me of The Good Samaritan but I like how the rose is the focal point. The rose is unable to protect itself from harm. In the rush to do our own selfish things, we overlook the harm we’re doing to the things we don’t even notice.

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