Roses

And even though they're wilting
And it seems the sense of life is gone
I languish in the quilting
Of our memories, and I hold on.

And even though the smell, it stings
With what once could have been
I embrace those little things
And the world we were once in.

When the leaves are falling down
Though it hurts, in my hands I hold
The thorns, only then I can understand
All there is of beauty, and
Not only what I am told.

But in the end, the petals float
On the wings of freedom
So far away

Only then can they be seen by all
And then my heart will not grow cold
Only when the flower falls
I am happy, in knowing

Only then, will the smiles unfold

Only then, love will not be remote

And only then,

That what for me is dust, can be
Others' gold
And only then,
Will there be hope in the things I wrote.

When roses grow old
And the stems turn to love again
Not the flowers
For they will wilt, but
The feelings behind them, will remain.