Picking A Rose

The other day I was brainstorming ideas for a gorgeous bouquet, I wanted to create a masterpiece. What I came up with was a simple bed of daisies, but sitting in the center as if it were the main character of a movie or a famous actress, a single purple rose. It truly was gorgeous and I immediately got to work making it. After painstaking hours of trimming, weaving, and adjusting, my work was done.
It was only once I stepped back that I realized how terrible what I had done was. Among this field of innocence was a single royal presence, dead. The petals were barely hanging on, and I realized that in my haste I had all but destroyed the centerpiece of what I loved. I'd cut my hands on its thorns due to my impatience, and in return I had cut the stem too short. I destroyed that which was dear to me. My rose had been wilting for hours, and I hadn't even noticed... Until now