Life is like a bloom of roses,

there’s beauty and thorns within.

Day by day, it gets older,

closer to death.

Gets shorter by every breath.

It can be lived doing good,

or committing sin.

Sometimes it’s sweet, other times, sour.

Family is like a rose holder,

it supports you from your heads to your toeses,

like it supports a rose, roots to flower.

You only live once, so do what you should.

From the day you’re born, to the day you die,

you’re as alive as can be.

The day you die, others will cry,

the day you die, your soul shall be set free.

Well now you’re gone.

What happens when a “rose” dies?

Another one shall spawn,

another one shall rise.