Based off of the poem "roses" By: maiyalogist
Watching the petals fall down,
Slowly into the city, little dots of deep red.
Why must the love continue, such beauty, such pain.
All going to waste
As I stand gripping the stem as tight as I can,
Feeling the thorns pierce my skin.
I think of you, what could have been.
What would have happened.
The only answer is pain, pain is all I feel for now.
But then you come along, and I lessen the grip.
A new flower comes and replaces the stem of pain.
A fresh new marigold to please the pain.
Still, the marigold is stained red with blood from previous stems.
But this flower stem doesn't cause blood.