Wild Rose

You cut me out of your life like pruning thriving leaves from a plant. Wilted flowers only needing to be nurtured to create new buds, maybe a little more water would have helped. I hear it’s good to talk with your plants, so maybe a little communication could have done the trick. Though here we are, leaves and petals on the floor. I was too much for you to keep, so you consumed my love for your own nourishment, as you neglected to maintain me in return. The remnants of what I had left were tossed aside. My spirit freed from the misuse of my offerings. Wild roses growing in a landscape they would have never originally chosen. I offer my beauty to others as our lives intersect for small moments, knowing that someday there will appear an individual willing propagate what I have to offer.