The rose grew and blossomed on the farm,
With all her beauty, the alluring scent and charm,
Sadly one afternoon the florist shred her thorns
And in between being lost, being found and being torn,
The florist cut her from the ground,
Where she felt quite homebound,
As she was sold to numerous and countless men,
her life fell to shambles and at time to rot in a den,
She was never the same rose ever again.