Mocker Roses

In the depths of my closet
Lay the roses of our months,
Shriveled and dried;
Scents still lingering.

Gingerly I pull them out,
Spreading them across the floor,
Reminiscing our moments;
A bittersweet recollection.

Fingers caress the petals
Losing their shades
Once vibrant;
A mockery of our love.

A sigh ruffles the delicate
Slipping from the stem,
Balding roses befall;
And that is when you are gone.