Everything has been torn to pieces
just like how old roses falls
there is nothing left to show,
not even specks of dust,
from every single side, front to back,
nothing have been left behind.

Hardships, despair, lost,
they say every goodbye comes with a new start,
but what I get have always been a goodbye.

Old dead roses fade away
and so is my existence
the once sharp thorns started to blunt
just like how bland my days have become

But every day is a new life, a new page,
roses will grow again,
prickling its thorns to those who hurts
Standing tall and pretty,
Just like how I will stand for myself,
Rejuvenate and grow
along with those roses loved by everyone
And until then, I will become,
that roses behind every thorns.