Looking at a boque of roses,
all seem to be at the end of their life span
All but one
It's like it wants to hold on,
sayin "I still wish to be looked upon"
Which is comparable to us people
We call it the last bit of hope
It's what keeps us going
When things seem to collapse on us
we think of that one thing or one person that helps us hold on
We always compare eachother to other two legged beings
Though, we never seem to see
how much we are like plants and animals aswell
Strangely enough, aslo weather
They may not walk and talk like us, though still very much alike
The human eye misses so many things,
which makes all mysterious
And what we do see,
we fail to comprehend
Or maybe it's because we don't want to
