Like a lost picture, the rose wilts, Wanting to live on with its memories, but not finding the strenght to. Wanting to be nurtured back to health, but not finding the water or sun to help. Searching for the happiness and peace that used to surround it, but not finding the warm and loving hands that used to tenderly touch it. And her petals slowly dry off into the cold air around her as she grasps for the stem but falls instead, knowing that at one time she brought happiness to a young girl in love. Realizing her time is through, she moves on into the dead world, hoping she won, t get stepped on.