The Lonely Rose

Dew sits on it in the morning

The petals slowly open 

through it beauty flowing

This young flower, new to the world

i picked it up and in my fingers it twirled 

as days pass by

the young rose begins to die

wither up and dry out

the petals slowly falling now 

I could have left it in the ground

where the wind blows with no sound

it would have grown to be bright

oh, what a beautiful sight

The sun setting in the west

would be time for the young rose to rest

through the night I'd watch out my window

in the moonlight at the lonely rose

dew sits on it in the morning

it's petals slowly open

through it beauty flowing...