Rose That Will Wither in Bend

A rose once bloomed so bright and red, Its petals soft, its fragrance spread. It stood so proud in morning light, A lovely thing, a perfect sight. But time moved on, as time will do, The skies turned gray, the cold winds blew. Its petals dropped, one by one, Its beauty fading with the sun. It knew it couldn't always stay, That flowers bloom, then fade away. But still it stood, and still it tried, To smile once more before it died. A gentle life, so sweet, so brief— It left behind a quiet grief. Though it is gone, we still recall The rose that bloomed, then lost it all.