The Rose

The rose stood beautifully by the window

I watched as she called out

A tear rolled down her cheek

her lips formed a heart-breaking pout



The rose needed her to come back

After the tears stopped

the silence began

Even though I told her, she'd be back again



The rose was a precious little baby

That didn't want me there

Instead of being upset, I understood

She needed "her" care.



So I set the rose free to grow on the best soil

Gave her a new family

That would cherish her

As much as me.

I love you Abby, and I miss you.