My life is a rose
Sometimes black,
Sometimes red,
Sometimes withered
And dead.
Each petal a year,
When in full bloom
I'm happy, with nothing to fear,
But when falling,
The wind blowing them away
All it spells is doom.
The thorns are hurt
And anguish that I've felt
I've got so many
And so many I've dealt.
The stems thicker
With each year I wish hadn't been
And of things I wish
I hadn't seen.
When it's been neglected
It's when I have been too
Then, when it's healthy and green,
It's when I'm no longer blue.
My life is a rose
It's something that grows and grows.
At the moment it's a single rose
Climbing up a single stem
But I hope, as the years pass,
It will grow into a bush, to always last.
My life is a rose,
And one day it will fall
That day will be when I die
Sometime when death calls.