The man who brought me brown roses

He came home from a late night run to the grocery store, Bearing wilted flowers, roses once but not quite now. I’m an orchid kind of girl, but I put them in a vase just the same And thank him with a long kiss. The morning comes, and I have to ask Why did you bring me brown roses from the clearance section of the grocery store? Because, he explains, I saw them there, alone. And I felt for them, I did not them to feel unloved. He tells me that they broke his heart no longer seen as able to sit next to fresh and beautiful flowers. And so he brought them home to me Because he knew I would put them in a vase just the same.