Rose Petals

I woke up one morning with the thought to pick a rose A rose with its pretty shades and thorny stems As I reached out to the flower garden, I wasn't thinking about the thorns just the pretty petals I wrapped my hand around the flower and cried as I drew back in pain My hand was streaked with blood from the rose thorns Angered, I lashed out on the rose bush I gathered a lighter and burned my pretty roses, laughing as the yellow flames mix with red petals I go into the house and think nothing else of it The next morning I open my eyes and go outside, expecting to be greeted by my flower garden Then I begin to cry when I see the ashes of my roses Saddened, I walk back inside and think Remembering the pretty flowers and how they're now gone Then I remember my lone rose from the day before I lift the flower to my face and pick the petals one by one, watching as they fall slowly to my feet