The Rose That Grows From Concrete

July 29, 2007. © Talon Truitt Cherry, All rights reserved

Does anyone see the beauty within,
the rose that grows from concrete?
Though it dies as soon as life is to begin,
this flower knows no defeat.
From underneath a wall of stone,
it pushed facing certain demise.
It needed no help, it made it alone.
A true hero in my eyes it lies.
And even though death could be seconds away,
it pushes, growing up towards the sky.
It takes no rest it; accepts no break,
growing stronger when others would die.
Most people see a rose as something unique,
a symbol of passion and love.
But the rose that they speak of is not what I seek.
This rose they know nothing of.
I have one request for my dying day,
in the event of my demise.
Wipe your eyes do not cry on the ground which I lay,
Instead smile and look to the sky.
For my destination is the same as this rose,
this rose which grew from the stone.
The reason it grows for the sky is it knows,
when it dies there it won't be alone.
When you look to the sky, look for my smile.
Then look down and begin to pray
For what you see will stun you awhile,
my death will change you forever this day.
On top of my head stone over my grave,
a light slowly grows and then glows.
Then out from the concrete in a beautiful display,
on this day will grow a rose.