You became a fantasy
You planted a seed that bloomed into a flower
It grew tall and colorful
Oh it was wonderful
But like the busy man
You had other deeds to tend to
Your first rose grew thorns and pricked you
So now some other tends to it not knowing of the pain it shall bring
While your second rose you neglect
It longs for your tending love
And you believe it to be strong on its own
But in reality it gets weaker as the days pass
You leave it in the care of no one
When the petals fall and it's leaves begin to wilt
You pay no mind
You see the weeds begin to choke its roots but instead of tending to it
You leave it be
The flower holds on for dear life hoping one day, maybe one day, the tender man will tend to its needs...