My Brooklyn Rose

Tears in the night of my winter
You are a summer rain
Pour in the color and warmth
Rinse out the pain
Used to the cold and the shiver
Rattled by more than gray
I make the mistake of my life
I turn away

cll that I can feel is thorn
Too selfish to see they adorn
The miracle flower that grows
Our Brooklyn rose

Dead in the heart of the city
We grew a garden there
Traffic light, coffee, cement,
Sunshine and air

You held your hand out to reach me
Told you I'd take it soon
I left you there tending the rose
Under the moon

Fear of us my heart well knew
Too easy and deep to be true
Too perfect for poem or prose
Our Brooklyn rose

Now I know
I understand
cnd I cry the coldest tears

Tears for love too late I chose
Who knows what the ending will be
For now I can only suppose
My Brooklyn rose