Rosey Poem

The Rose

I see many things you don't
bugs crawl on my thorny limbs
Butterflies land on my crimson petals
but you miss everything my friend,
You will never see the worms that crawl,
the insects marching along.
the people stop and admire me,
while they don't even notice you.
The wind gently blows here, low to the ground,
while it rages wildly up in the sky.

As my fragile buds bloom,

my sadness looms ahead,

as you grow away from me.

I miss your company.

Your wrinkled old eyes,

will never witness me,

with my beautiful petals, and dainty stems,

being picked, plucked from the soft dirt,

taken away from you.

And while you stand alone, with only the flying birds,

and the air which never has much to say,

I will be far away

Encased in jeweled glass,

with another, thinking of you every day,

left to wither away and thinking over having to leave you.

Goodbye old tree! Goodbye old friend!