As the last pedal falls from the rose,
Drifting silently to the earth below.
One lone tear falls upon my cheek.
The ending of something so beautiful as a rose,
Is such a sad thing.
As I walk away thinking that the beauty of the day is gone,
I am reminded that in the spring when the rain falls
And it appears to be the darkest.
I will come to this spot once more,
And it will be the day the roses bloom.
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