the rose 

your first gift to me was a rose 

even if you left  

i'm keeping it 

it lays between the papers of my book
every petal holds a memory 

a souvenir written in blood

the blood of two broken hearts 

we changed and drifted apart 

even the flower shed tears 

weeping upon our doomed relationship

but that was our fate 

so what can we ? 

we couldn't change a thing 

 so here lays the rose in my book 

dying slowly telling about us