The withering rose
2003-04-07 at 12:39 p.m.

The rose longs for freedom

It wants to be free, free of its own imprisonment

But no matter how it tries to stuggle out

It is still stuck in its own prison

In the end,it knows it will suffocate.

It really hates itself sometimes

For being too dependent on its gardener

But it knows the day will pass

The night will come

Sunshine will not always be there.

It becomes more demanding

Taking in water, it wants more

It wants more of the gardener's

Time,love and care

Because it loves him too much.

It knows it's it's own fault

For being such a fragile and delicate rose

Once again,it hates itself for being different from the other flowers.

It tries to be independant when storm hits it

It grows thorns to protect itself from being hurt

But in the end,it's own thorns prick it

It hurts, but it could only laugh sadistically at itself.

Sometimes, it has its bee and butterfly friends to visit it.

But they can't stay forever with it.

It hates it when the gardener says one thing, but does another

It is sick of living in false hopes

All it asks is to sneak a glance at its gardener

That's all it asks for.

It is glad it has its cruel side

It is not so weak afterall

However,it does not want to turn from a passionate red rose

to a black heartless rose

Because it knows the gardener still loves it.

Seems like it doesn't matter when it expresses how it feels.

The same thing will repeat.

It gives up trying to show it's agony.

It cries. It felt so helpless.

Nothing else understands it.

So it just blames itself for the way it loves the gardener.

��Copyright@Suzu