Two ordinary flowers,
On the cold, dark floor,
One, two, three,
Wait...there's four.
Old and rusty,
But once beautiful and red,
They chose other flowers,
These soon to be dead.
But these roses were on a floor,
A designed and fancy floor,
These floors were very rich,
While these roses were sadly poor.
Until one day,
A young girl had bought these worthless flowers,
Which she put in a vase of water under the sunlight,
They'd last for hours.