Oh Rose, the time has come.
Your pedal's droop with rumpled luster,
your scent has faded to familiar,
and your water has grown tepid
and murky like the morning after.
It is time,
time for a bright Begonia,
or a long, thin Tiger Lilly.
A time for chasing cravings
for new scents, and curves and colors.
Can't you see?
Can't you see the beauty in this world?
Fields of flowers, rolling by in seasons
and I'm compelled to tumble after
drawn by flower faces flitting by.
So Rose, the time has come.
Know that I picked you with a purpose
and for a sweet summer's day
you were all the beauty I could hold.
There is so much beauty in this world.
