When we see a rose we think of love,
Red the color of a rose and of,
Love,

Just like finding the perfect flower,
We try to find the right person to give a love shower,
Even if it takes some time,

A rose bud just like a new love,
Every petal a memory made,
Good or bad,
Happy or Sad,

Both have great Beauty,
Careful or we’ll be hurt by their cruelty,
Both can puncture you no matter what we do,
But we will be hurt and end up feeling blue,


Eventually just like a rose love starts to wilt,
And we can’t help but feel hurt,
And we try our best to not go on tilt,

All those petals,
All those memories,
They all begin to fall,
As we try to forget them.