Author Information
The Rose
The once red rose is now withered and gray,
Most petals fallen on the kitchen floor.
The once fragile bud isn't anymore.
A beautiful flower, left to decay;
Symbolizing the fallen of the Pure.
It grew just to die, so what was it for?
To brighten our lives for a single day.
Its' big flower head now hangs down in shame.
Its' green feathered leaves hang down at its' sides.
A lonely picture, too sad for a frame.
The innocence lost, and nature's to blame.
Behind the dead bloom, a good moral hides;
We all end the same, judge by what's inside.
