My White Rose
The petals fall upon the ground,
One by one, they make no sound.
Soft as down, and white as snow,
In the dark they seem to glow.
Daylight comes and still they fall,
But still my rose stands straight and tall.
It does not wilt or wither down,
Accepting fate without a frown.
Day by day it’s color fades,
No longer white but dim and grey.
The petals lose their texture;soft,
And crumble from the slightest touch.
The day has come, all petals shed,
And stands alone a lonely stem.
It’s brilliance may no longer glow,
Embrace the death of My White Rose.
-Paige Marie Bashaw
