A Withering Rose

A pink rose sits in a crystal vase

The soft petals reflect small pieces of light

As the morning sunshine puts the rose on display

The crystal vase shines small glitter sprinkles

Along the peach colored walls

The rose sits on the windowsill,

Soaking up the nutritious water

And refreshing sunshine

The winter has been long, the rose is tired

The pink rose is the last of the bunch

Its family is gone,

Creating new life among the dirt

The water line in the vase

Casually decreases

Leaving the rose with

Less and less

The rose’s thin, delicate stem

Droops farther and farther

With each long day

The sun begins to appear less frequently,

Leaving the sad rose with nothing

As the rose loses hope, a petal falls

Then another

Then a few more

The deep pink of the rose begins to dwindle

Brown spots take over the petals’ edges

Death moves farther into the rose

Until it stops at the heart

The brown rose,

Without water,

Without sunshine,

Rests in the vase for eternity,

Without ever taking another breath of life