A beautiful rose so delicate,
stands tall and proud,
so young and innocent,
it's petals only just opening to the world,
not knowing what lies ahead,
what its life will bring.
The eligant rose, now stronger and older,
it's grown a little protection,
the sharp thorns waiting for their prey to come.
If the victim isn't careful,
the rose can be quite deadly.
The unsuspecting rose,
has let itself be picked,
lets go of it's safety and falls into a trap.
Once too late, the rose is caught,
never to go back.
The wilting rose, now a little hurt,
still holds onto false hope,
still so trusting and unbelieving,
but just getting pushed closer to death.
It is dropped helplessly to the ground.
The trampled rose, beyond repair,
its petals all torn off and brown.
No longer beautiful, it lets itself go,
not allowing itself to be helped,
as it doesn't see the point.
The deceased rose, flattened and sad
now lies brown on the sidewalk.
A decomposing lesson to be made,
But for the rose, too late,
it now lies forgotten.
