Futility
I stare at the single rose
Resting in a red crystal vase
The light of the morning sun
Shines though the split in a dark black curtain
Hitting a single drop of dew
As it rolls down the velvety petal
Falling on a green leaf
Almost dropping to the floor
It looks like a tear at the beginning of a new cry
Sitting at the precipice
The edge of what it knows
And the unknown chasm below
It teeters on the edge
Not knowing what do to
It sits and waits
Trying to hold on
It finally falls into a ceramic dish
Resting for hours
Again it waits
Until it again finds itself rolling down a velvety petal
And the cycle begins again
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