Reality has taken hold of me
My rose just hardened with this frozen tear
Upon my heart which died sometime last year
When you resolved to sit back, wait and see
The softness I once knew has turned to thorns
And sadly, I still crave a touch from them
Beauty has faded, wrinkled and looks worn
I settle for just part of the rose -- the stem
My fingers bleed and hurt from holding on
At times too tightly, other times to loose
The sunlight is this room seems harsh, too strong
For a seed trying to be a recluse
Should I let the flower shrivel and die?
Or drown the bud with more tears from my eyes?
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