Nonexistant Rose Poem by vickie fuhriman

It starts as only a seed.
Then planted carefully and taken care of,
It soon starts to grow,
With the percision of nature,
It blossoms beautifully
and the color is amazing!
Almost as red blood.
In the prime of its life,
It is cut and taken.
The petals start to wilt,
Then loose color.
It soon turns as black as my soul.
No one wants it,
So it is thrown out.
Blown by the wind,
The dead rose is taken away.
If it stops moving, it knows,
That it will decay into nothingness.
Which is exactly
What she fears most.
NonExistance....