Poet Me

Roses

Roses.

They'd share of a world of blue skies, fluffy clouds, sunlight, and a warm night, 

or they'd make a romantic date go right.

They'd even turn a frown into a beautiful smile.

Roses.

I've loved them.

Watching them slowly bloom; as their petals would unfold into something beautiful,

you'd grow drunk on their scent of a perfume.

They bloom like the trees,

sway in a breeze,

and magical things, both beauty and kindness can make it look absolutely fine.

Roses.

Have you ever loved a rose?

Loving them despite their thorns and never feel like letting them go.

Have you loved a rose like that?

Oh, how I wish they'd speak.

If roses could speak, I'd prefer observing their precious looks than to see anything.

Know the sad, disappointing, yet true fact?

They can't speak.

I'd end up having to wait for ages to hear their soft, beautiful melody speak in my ears.

But sometimes, I'd hear them.

In my dreams that is.

How I never want to wake up and stay in the field surrounded by their beauty instead,

because the world is too harsh for such delicate, beautiful, innocent flowers like them.

You know what they should have?

A separate planet for flowers, where they can live peacefully without any destruction.

Roses.

They'd be so happy.

I'd wonder if they had feelings like us humans?

Wouldn't that be amazing?

Sadly, it'd be a bad idea.

They'd get hurt so often.

Either their taken away from their home to a flower shop where people can buy them,

or be used for impressment, but instead be thrown away as a disappointment.

Roses.

There's so much to say about them.

Their charming red color states royalty and makes them stand out.

Their petals are a symbol of perfection.

Their scent makes you crave for them.