Broken Rose.

The weight of the glass will never change, but the longer you hold on to it in your hands, the heavier it feels. And for May Winters her glass is just one problem away from slipping out of her hands and hitting the hard cement she place around her tender heart. "Words cannot describe its beauty as upon the stem it grows Matchless in its glory, the tender little rose When its petals are broken, its greatest beauty shows For sweeter the fragrance of the broken Rose." These for lines are what played in his mind, day after day since he herd her beautiful cry come from the mist of the night along with the glimpse of her glossy eye's shine underneath the light.