A Single Red Rose

The bouquet arrived with one red rose, encased in a mass of white, the single rose told of a secret, always denied by his dear wife. Like clockwork every month of May the red rose he would save, placing down a wreath of white, upon his wife's grave. The White represented happiness, one for every year, he spoke to her so softly saying "They smell really sweet my dear". He often talked of his day, his breakfast and his tea, he'd say "conversation's difficult when the only one who talks is me" "I always knew your secret, why did you never say? you could of told me anything, secrets never go away" He felt a pang of sorrow, one secret never shared, they'd play around it constantly, like neither really cared. "You almost once admitted it, remember when we danced, I held you close in my arms, in love's classic starstruck trance" He wondered why she held it back, he gave an almost smile, lost in thought he sat with her, in silence for a while. "If I could get to talk with you thats the question I would ask, why you never told me, you'd say cause you never asked" As he prepared to leave, picked his coat up from the grass, he looked down upon her grave and said "well I always knew my lass" 20 years she had loved him,and one before she thought he knew, he'd tease of that often, she denied always it was true. So in the bouquet he order's are white roses of their truth, and a red one for the single year he'd secretly loved her too.