white rose

Many months sinced you asked if I could pick you up. Anyone could pick me up. 

Then you arrived alone with a taxi in a strange city. 

I was wearing something black and a rose in my hair. 

A white rose that I tossed at your feet for my 30 something summers have passed quick. Last  year a white rose was in my heart, but had so many thornes that it need it to be unplacked.