Life is but a rose bright in first bloom.
  It colours bright but delicate to show its beauty.
   It stem strong to show its strength.
Each may look the same but each are different.
As time drifts by after a while things change.
The rose grows dim its colour once bright now faded.
   Its stem once stronger now weak.
The rose now withered may sadly silently die.
But for each that dies.
  In time another will bloom brightly in its place.
Such as life it will always go on.