Roses are Red

Standing proudly on the prarie
The red rose has risen from the ground
The morning has come, but on the contrary
The rooster's yet to call his sound

A lone rose looks to the newborn sun
Tears of dew upon it's sleaves
The trikling liquid quickly runs
from it's stem down each it's leaves

Stretching, quickly grasping for sunlight
Bending to the powerful sun's will
So it can grow stronger, and be the prettiest flower in sight
Not stopping until satisfied is it's chlorophyll

The sun watches over head
Looking out for the red spec among the green,
proudly acknoledges the rose with a smile and said
That's the most beautiful rose I've ever seen

But as the sun went down, tired from a day's labor
The moon came in with his cold stare
Making friends just for favors,
He was more negativity than care

The rose wept and shedded it's lovely pedals,
Withering in the cold moon's plight,
Feeling the grass's chill like metal
So deeply missing the light

A seed has formed inside this lovely rose
Something unfelt until the next sun rose
A feeling of new life inside, the greatest feeling I suppose
To create a life is god like, an activity few can know

The sun came back, that day illuminus as before
Something was different though, the roses! There were more!
not one, but two red roses standing out in the crowd
The sun looked on, obviously quite proud

Days turned to weeks
weeks into years
But no matter how weak
The roses forgot their tears

But the season changed, the ground turned to white
A new atmosphere surrounded them, even worse than night!
The two roses cowered, and search for their dear sun
But alas, no use, the sun was too far - the roses were done.

Standing proudly, reciting the prayer - y
The roses buried in the ground
The mourning have come, but on the contrary
Not even the sun makes a sound