It was beautiful.
A long dark green stem with prickly untasteful thorns along. Leaves, sharp curves and pointy ends added to the beauty of the step. But once you make your way to the top, your breath suddenly escapes your longs in pure awe. At the stop of the stem were beautifully crafted delicate red petals that fit perfectly next to the ones beside it.
It was a red rose.
An absolutely gorgeous red rose, bright and full of health and life. It lay in a flowerbed with dozens of other roses. People regularly come along and admire the rose bushes, always picking out one special rose to take home.

On may 17th, and beautiful day; every one of the roses was soaking up the gentle warmth the sun was giving off. Once again people strolled by the roses.
But for some odd reason, one rose was most often overlooked.
But today would be the day that this rose was to be picked by a handsome young man.
The man took the beautiful red rose home and displayed it in his kitchen for everyone to see; proud that he had picked such an extraordinary rose.
But not too long after, he would find that his rose was just like a normal rose, so he did not admire it as much. Soon he took if off of his kitchen counter, it was starting to die because he did not water it. He thought the now “ugly rose” would disturb his guests. So he moved it to his bedroom.

Keeping it behind closed doors meant that the man who bought the rose that it had lost its beauty.

He left it in his room to die.
He did not care the consequences.
He simply did not care.

There came a day where the man bought a yellow rose, when this happened, the old red rose’s petals began to fall off. One by one, its beauty deteriorated, all because the man did not care.

This story about the rose is the story of my heart, and what the man had done to it.