What She Writes

Withered Rose

For once, show me the beauty of the world
Send me warmth and a little bit taste of water
Don’t and stop confining me here in the dark
I am thirsty, pale, and soon to fall apart
Today another petal has given up
My roots are not strong as it is before
At the random strike of cold wind
Leaves are starting to losen their grip

By which, who am I—
A rose who will not bloom again
But perhaps will die in the darkness of the night
Full of imperfections and insecurities
The clock is ticking and I am now counting the days
Would any man reconsider what am I
Someone who will look deeper into my roots
And tell the beauty of my imperfections

I have lost the beauty that He has given
For no one showered me with love only hatred
My thorns are the sharpest among them all
But it is the cause of my bleeding and pain
I am weak and only hiding behind the doors
No one tried to come and find me
And the day has finally come
I won’t ever bloom again