A rose that lost her petals,

is it still a rose?

the edges droop depression  often highly known,

should i bare off spring,

if only to please me,

wise silly feelings,

of transcending dreams,

am i still a rose if im not proud,

to pointy my thorny figure,

i perhaps unhappy now,

if so why is it not known?

why do you not! 

Asking thing of know!

I hate you! i Hate you!

for im to be a rose!

so proud i was and now just to bleed,

this my new figure this will be my deed,

You plucked me like a scoundrel,

you vermin left to die!

I up to plant my child,

in in the rottings of your side,

shall my growth,

Pride!

I will renew!

Rebirth in a motion,

soon i’m over you,

Yes I am a rose,

not red or white but new,

I am the hybrid who you will never swoon.