Grief

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One evening while out walking,
Down an unused path.
I saw wild roses growing,
Tucked away behind tall grass.
I walked a little closer,
Moved the grass so I could see.
A bush of blooming roses,
Had been hiding there from me.
Surprised I found them growing,
In such a place as this.
Quite a shame, to see them bloom,
In a place, where they were missed.
Perhaps if I transplanted them,
To a better place I knew.
Many would enjoy them,
When the buds were birthed anew.
I picked a spot so careful,
And placed them there to grow.
I waited for the buds to come,
So everyone would know.
The beauty once, which had grown wild,
Would be better seen by all.
But you can't tame this flower,
Because by nature it is wild.
Every year the rose bush greens,
It seems as if it's fine.
But there are never any roses,
That will grow there on its vines.
I encourage it with kindness,
With love and tender care.
Disappointed every year,
For leaves is all it bears.
I should have never tamed it,
It was a selfish thing I did.
The rose shall never bloom again,
Like they had when they were hid.
What made me fall in love with them,
Was the fact that they were free.
I killed the very thing I loved,
When I changed it selfishly.

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