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I'm so not a poet. My thing's prose. But here's something for good measure. My poems are short, too. I can't do that epic length stuff.
Lifeless Roses
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Lifeless roses still do grow
Where there is no life to you
There is life you’d never know
Makes a much brighter red, while dead
Than the piercing, sunset skies
Or blood in immortal veins that will never die
It is so much the brighter now that it is what it art
Has more love of itself than even love of another heart
Lifeless, these roses may be, but still
Can love itself more than at another’s will.
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