Dying Rose

A Poem by Country Girl47

Life's supposed to be precious,
have a meaning, be positive.
At the beginning, it's beautiful
just like a bed of roses.

Then as we get older, our heart's are pricked
by a thorn in our life. Make our heart bleed, and
that starts when we're as young as teenagers.

We meet friends and family, we blossom,
they make us stronger, relationships grow.
Watered with encouragement and kindness.

Along come people who darken our sky.
Take away our sunshine, then we begin to fade
and wilt. Life we once had, no longer exists.

We move our roots to another flower bed,
it gets harder to move away from ones'
you've loved with all your heart, even family.

Will I ever see that garden of bright roses,
where we can blossom and grow together?