Wish You Hadn’t Started

by Poetically Yours, Chesca

I was the young budding rose once beautiful.

Sprinkled down and cared by the droplets from your rain cloud.

You helped me grow.

You grew with me.

I changed because of your sunlight,

Your soil that grounded me down.

You were the oxygen I took in,

Gentle breezes that touched me softly.

Now that days have gone

And I have grown.

I made fingers bleed by anyone who picked near.

Fooled fraud beauty–

Didn’t they see that I had thorns?

Petals unfurling,

I am wilting.

No longer taken care of by the one who cared for the most.

Day by day.

Almost turned grey and dead.

So much growth and beauty squandered.

Why did you have to stop watering me?

If only you never stopped caring for me.