Wilted Roses Poem by Shelley Caines

People say wilted roses never die,
But all that is, is a big fat lie.
I have a metaphore for you to hear.
It's about a relationship with one you hold dear.
Roses grow until they bloom,
Beautiful, with no gloom.
At this time, they are strong,
They think nothing could go wrong.
Then they start to wilt and die
Knowing ahead what would lie.
The pettles start to fall, going separate ways
Hoping they'll be remembered always.
When the pettles drift apart
They leave the rose with a broken heart.
So take heed my friends,
All good things must come to an end.

Written sometime late 2004