The Wilting Rose


Who caused your petals to droop,
Your stem to be brittle and now less spiky,
Hollow and sad,
But still standing.
Making it through all of the hard times,
The dark and the lonely?

Nature has created me,
Heartbreak has broken me.
Carefully and softly at first,
Then harsh and cold at moments.
Nature placing me up on a hill,
To be picked by the one who loves another.
As I begin to wolt, their love dismantles.
Everntually I die completely and the both fall apart.
After all of that I regrow,
Bright red, white, or pink.
Waiting to be picked for another couple,
And start my journey all over again.
Being taken to somewhere else,
And reliving the life once more.

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