I didn’t pick up the flower
With petals that saw the sun
I regret now more than ever
Making a mistake that once
I do remember, however
The long roots that it had grown
That it was a bit older
Than I could have ever known
It’s still a beautiful flower
Yet conscience won’t let me go
The scent that is held inside her
Unfortunately, I don’t know
Maybe it was meant to be
Me not picking up that rose
I guess if I had it would have lost
Its beautiful, natural pose