When I was but a little five-year-old
Running cheerfully through the garden of life,
I came across five roses wrapped together as one
Each with their own story to tell
The first rose shimmered and sparkled from afar
She was "the hero of peace and justice"
Truly upright and beautiful
But completely dead up close, for her shyness overpowered her
The second one seemed awfully lonely
Bent forward and afraid of the world
Her low voice never seemed to have reached anyone
She had one petal left, one last hope
The third rose, brimming with jealousy and disgust
The more she despised, the more others despised her, and the more she lost
The one time she was loved, she neglected him
And when seeking for his forgiveness, he could not be found
The fourth rose was the only blue one, always so calm and cool
Strong and heartless, unable to show any feelings
Unable to show her weaknesses
And unable to show her resolve
And the fifth one was weak and crippled
With each gust of wind, I feared she might get blown away
Yet she was in the center, the strongest of all five
Because she loved and was the only one loved in return
Pulling out my shoelaces, I tied another knot carefully around them
"It was those differences that united them", is what I thought
Being frightened by the outside world wasn't a problem anymore
For they had each other now, and their friendship was what made them stronger
