Roses aren’t always red
Roses aren’t always red
They aren’t always perfectly curled shells, tightly swirled together
They may not have the beautiful dew collected inside to catch the early morning sunlight
The patterned edges may be frayed, they may be decayed
But inhale and you will smell their sweet scent
Touch them and they still feel silken, and delicate
Ignore them and they whither and brown
Their petals will fall like tears
Forget to care for them and they will wilt, and begin to grow wild
They will forge a new path, their own way