Wilted it lays on the table
Beckoning back at me
With a time of long ago
It’s wrinkled red lips
Slowly turning upward
And failing to continue to charm me
Oh the rose my love
Such a beautiful creation
One which empowers man
Now it lays before us
So tired
So lost
My dear the rose with all its beauty
My dear the rose once almighty
My dear the rose is now gone
Regis