The Lonely Rose

I found a lonely rose today.
It was lying on a bench
Withstanding the cold breeze
holding on to its beauty

I picked up this lonely rose
it withered in my hands
tried to cling to my palm for warmth
I felt it tremble for love

Had this rose served its purpose,
of healing a broken heart?
Or had it made someone feel better,
with its beauty and fragrance?

Maybe this lonely rose was lost
and simply wanted to go home.
Or was it abandoned
because of the painful memories it conjured?

I found a lonely rose today,
it looked like it was in pain
I placed it gently in my shirt pocket,
and laid it to rest by my heart.