Rose Petals

I bought myself roses the other day,

If you ask me why, I could say, ‘’just because’’,

But, the truth is, it was my birthday,

I wished someone would buy me flowers before I took a pause,

And thought to myself, ‘’hey, why don’t I get them for myself?’’

This act, seemingly insignificant, was a milestone,

I realized, my happiness is mine to create,

Something I should have known,

Long before I gave the world the power to dictate

How I feel.

The beautiful orange roses sat on my bedside table,

Dying a slow but beautiful death, as the days passed,

In my head, I knew it was inevitable,

But in my heart, I wanted it to last,

So, I saved the dried petals in a jar.

They’re like words on paper,

The skeleton of what was once a beautiful moment in time,

And, there’s no love greater

Than a poet’s love for rhyme,

Aargh, I’m rambling again.