Dead and wilted,
Ever lasting love, never again.
Petals torn, stripped of beauty,
That once shone with colour.
Raindrops of tears,
Flood the roots to drench.
Formally smelling of sugar,
Now rotted with rank odours.
Breathing in hate,
Needing new air to be happy again.
Sick of being in the middle
Of all the pricks and thorns.
