I fallen I feel off my brush I'm dieing the others rose are looking at me as I die I was a beautiful red soft but now I'm slowly during to a light crispy brown sometimes I wish while I was on the brush someone would pick me and even if I die in there book or in there vase I would know I was special so I just lay here wondering why was I never pick and there other where
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/59362745-288-k49e8d7.jpg)