Our Love Story

I picked a rose on a day when I swore to not leave my house and stay indoors. Something compelled me and told me to go, to find a field of flowers where love is said to grow. I took a rose and made it my home, gave it my heart, and broke my stone. The rose began to change, it was then that I knew it had a heart pace. Its colors had faded, but the thorns had grown sharper. It became hard to hold as my field got darker. I couldn't bear to let this rose go. I allowed its thorns to bleed my hands cold.  I started a family with this rose of mine, and no matter the pain, I held it so high. Until one day, the rose's love for me died. its colors bloomed back and its thorns retracted. It will grow for another just like we practiced.