Wilted Rose

I'm waiting like a wilted rose,
Buried so I can bloom again,
When Spring seems so far away,
I'm still close so I feel a friend,
Nobody can tear me away from her,
The pain of petals torn from me,
Landing in a seedless heart,
Roots stretch out but don't feel free

A winter feels as long as dreams,
Lost forever like opportunity,
They can pick she-loves-he petals,
But they can't take love away from me,
I can't hold on to shattered pieces,
Falling like snow infront of me,
As I run to prop a closing door,
Her heart melts ice that holds the key

There are sharp thorns around me,
That keep her from my touch,
But behind my hidden heart's mask,
I still love her very much,
The flower recovers from rains,
Drowns in tears but floats on hope,
The flower cannot forget the sun,
If the rains remain I will never cope

When a flower feels itself picked,
It recieves a hug and feels held dear,
It does not feel torn from Earth,
Unless it is dropped after she came near,
A rose that has never held on,
Can't reach her from this shelf,
She was the flower's only sun beam,
Its wilting under cold shade of all else