Oh, little rose,
today you appear so evidently sorrowful.
The lack of life and your petals that droop low
make me feel lonely at the sight.
You are present for decoration and that only.
Once you begin to appear ugly, you are discarded.
Don’t be sad, little rose, as for I was once sad, too.
My troubled eyes searched for someone to hold, and my cries needed a shoulder.
You try to escape, but...
