Beat up and tattered heart longing for its healing remedy
Been thrown around so many times, the petals no longer white as they used to
be
Thorns that were once my strength have been cut off
Stem that was so beautiful now bent and wrinkled up
Dead white rose, lonely in its garden
No more bright light to shine upon it
It lies on the ground, weak, no longer strong, waiting for someone caring to
come along
Deep in its core, it weeps and it cries for this dead white rose is no
longer alive
Days go by, the petals now shriveled, winter is near, the coldness is so
bitter
As the rain gently falls, the rose remembers, all those times when the dew
made it feel better
Once again, it is wet, but the wetness of the rain is nothing but pain
Dead white rose, floating in a puddle, it feels itself being stepped on by
you
It feels itself reaching its leaves out to you
Dead white rose is what I am, I'm the rose you killed
What a shame...


 
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