A strange hush befalls our small home
The weeds unruly, the only thing that is grown
The lily shriveled
The hyacinth a crispy coffin
Where did the roses go?
Silence from the tree
A gleeful glint dancing on the horizon
The soft lull of the breeze
Where did the roses go?
I was supposed to smell them.
They were here for the butterfly and here for the bee
So…why? Why not me?
You Lil Dickens 
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