Like petals falling off a rose
My tears fall one by one,
Slowly drifting to the ground
Until i can cry none.
The steam is usually long
Like the road that i must travel,
But i wish that i could cut is short
And leave behind all the dirt and gravel.
The thorns are short and painful
And can make you shed a tear,
But like most days i live in this life
They are my one and only fear.
The leaves to me mean nothing
But stand out like most little things,
But without them a rose would be plain and simple
Like an angel without her wings.
The most important thing
Is the soil beneath the ground,
Keeping the rose alive and strong
Without making a songle sound.
My tears fall one by one,
Slowly drifting to the ground
Until i can cry none.
The steam is usually long
Like the road that i must travel,
But i wish that i could cut is short
And leave behind all the dirt and gravel.
The thorns are short and painful
And can make you shed a tear,
But like most days i live in this life
They are my one and only fear.
The leaves to me mean nothing
But stand out like most little things,
But without them a rose would be plain and simple
Like an angel without her wings.
The most important thing
Is the soil beneath the ground,
Keeping the rose alive and strong
Without making a songle sound.