Roses Red

Wherefore* are the roses red?
Blood has stained them,

Wherefore are their stems of thorns?
Love may offer that and nothing more,

Wherefore are the clouds white?
Innocent are the eyes in awe of their flight,

Wherefore is no eternal in death?
It gives meaning to less,

Wherefore is a bird lost on earth?
It's feet do no have worth,

Wherefore are the little children at play?
'Tis for the betterment of their stay.