Little Flower Poem by love exo

I was born to the Roses.
Loved and praised; treasured and valued
for beauty and scent.
There wasn't any place I have never been to.
Bliss or woe, I was constantly invited to.
It's a story you all know.

Master, build a home of my kind
Not one or two, but, many shine.
Life was leisured till they came.
They admired and adored
my youth in thrive.
I became the new pride and joy,
a cynosure of all eyes.
But for how long the charm could last?

They plucked me from my kin
Drowned me in a solitary being.
As I aged, the verdict was passed.
'Pluck every petal and crypt it in pages.'
The poor little flower met his fate at last,
pressed between pages
Buried in the past.
It's a story commonly told.
It's how this story halts.