Withered roses

Like a flower,pressed,left,
In a book-forgotten,
A fragment of its original self
Like a butterfly,
Caught,admired and released
But injured,broken,unable to fly away-
And not even left with the courage to try
Like a rose,loved
Momentarily,for its beauty's sake
And plucked-but,withered,thrown away
Remnant of a love that was always fake
All deprived of their innocence,beauty
Left alone and hurt
Lonely,in this cruel world
Mere relics,pressed flowers,wingless butterflies,withered roses
To remind them of someone who once was....