By Bella Young
He was vibrant and beautiful
Every petal tangled in another
Confusion and Contentment all in one
He blossomed in late Spring and Summer
Letting the warm winds ruffle through
And he laughed
He lived through the warmth
And died in the winter
No, not died
He closed in the winter
Knowing it was time to rest
His red color signifying fire and passion
And his structure being fragile and delicate
But no one knows and, yet, everyone knows
The ugly message his petals sugarcoat
“Alas, my poor heart aches”