Memory In Petals Dried

Who said that drying flowers are not beautiful? Should we be thinking of these rosebuds so? When even they're full of feelings sorrowful, They don't deserve to be dispised by us at all. Like you, they long to be admirable for one Who culled them blooming rashly in a garden, Their innocence was crushed by roughness done, And now, just look how quickly they are dying! In shaking hands the fate - to disappear, Breathing the last but scenting as they used, Being what you'll never bring back in this fear, But save these petals though inside it's bruised.