The roses last pedal falls on the ground,
next to the other ones who looks so down.
A human comes along,
and takes your remains in her hand.
Then she hurries of not making a sound.
She takes you to her house and brings you in.
She soaks you in water,
then puts your stem in the trash.
She carries your pedals over to the table,
she spreads you out.
Tender are her hands,
she takes care of you forever.
It's as if you never had been.