by Stephanie Cox

Created on: November 14, 2009   Last Updated: November 16, 2009

The rose was beautiful,but sad.For it was dead,no,dying,yes.From the time I planted it,I knew it would make a difference.My fate lay in the petals of this very rose,for it was what had given me beauty.Without it,I was sure to shrivel up and die.The bush had stopped producing roses a long time ago.Now this was all that was left.I wondered,if it could speak what would it say.would it be furious?For i had used its power to its full advantage,or would it be thankful that i had let it live and used its power?That didn't matter,for it could not talk.Like a bruise,it was fading away very slowly,but surely would be gone before i knew it.I sat and sobbed.For the moment it was gone i surely would be too.As the last petal fell i felt my heart skip a beat,then another.The petal hit the ground and i was gone.They found me dead that day as an old lady.For just days before,I was beautiful, now I was grey.

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