Looking out of my window I see, the rose blooming from a seed.
Straight she shoots this way and that.
Ever so closed from the storms as they pass.
So tightly she is bundled so closed from me.
So brave yet so shy she wants to be free!
Awaken my rose come and see as flowers in the field dance with glee.
Emerging with petals unfolding.
She shows her beauty and strength.
Then the gardener appears to clip her friends away.
Ever bearing her thorns to protect her soul, the wounded gardener bleeds.
Forgive me dear rose for you see the rose is special to me.
It brings warmth and love and takes away the misery.
I know that roses bloom in the fall of their lives as they come to full maturity.
Their pedals wither and fade as they gently fall free.
Then new roses bloom in place of these to weather the storms in life we see.
As the sun fades shadow petals is all I see.
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