Roses are Immortal

You lay dead roses at my feet.

Think you could scare me?

I’ve just been watching quietly.

You tried to kill me.

Floral fragrances choked in fowl stench,

Bright red petals crumbled to black ashes.

Oh beautiful!

Big dreams, shriveled beneath dark clouds.

You lay dead roses at my feet.

So, I grabbed a shovel.

I dug and I dug, and I dug deep.

Covered in the grimy dirt of earth,

I packed in layers upon layers upon layers,

Tilling new soil breathing fresher air,

The lumps in my throat burst nutrient waters.

YES.

Now she can grow.

You brought me dead flowers!

And somehow, I was reborn.