Nothing to Care About

A damp patch of grass,
surrounding a rose.
Her soul just one pedal,
the wind only knows...

Can't concentrate on one part of a rose.
It's just a piece of a whole.
The only piece that glows.

After a rain,
this rose dripping water,
this is the girls tears,
the world just as a blur.

Medicine,
nothing can cure her...

She will think as a rose,
seems little insane.
But existing mother nature,
her tears...

Are the rain...

She will hide behind a face,
that isn't quite hers.
So she won't be rejected by useless cures...

Can her stem be as strong,
as the heart we can't see,
can she finally smile,
and become the girl she must be?

She can never be the same,
as everyone she should.
No person around,
the silence stood.

Her eyes must be useless,
for she cannot see,
I cannot see either,
for this girl must be me.

Cannot tell anyone how she feels,
everyone,
so many masks,
nobody could be real.

No one tells her shes special,
for no one truly cares.
She screams and she cries,
And her heart,
full of tares.

But why should I tell anyone,
about just one pedal on a rose?

I'll tell about her,
for she is so special, and beautiful,
inside....

And I want someone to know...

For this rose,
just died...