he gave her roses
in shiny colors of red and pink,
they didn't bloom
they looked good till they withered.
gifted her promises of a tomorrow
that could never be opened.
displayed on a shelf, they dried.
a never lasting nothingness
the emptiness of anticipations
unrealized by life's design.
if anybody was in love
it was clear they hadn't lived long enough,
or they had lied.
young love always dies.
dead like the roses.