I came with a white rose in hand,The whitest of the pristine ones
As I saw you walking down in the regalia
And looking really proud.
It’s the whitest rose I could find
Striped from all the thorns,
Just white and clean
As you like it to be
And then the smile came upon your lips
As bright as the stars
As red as the ripe apple.
So it came upon me,
That the white rose was out of place
As your happy face devoured the humble bud
Turning my back,
I put the rose on the ground
And went away
