My Friend

You were by far the most beautiful rose on the bush and that is why you happened to be picked first. Little did they know you weren’t quite ready to be picked for viewing pleasures just yet, and the most beautiful part had yet to be seen. Just when you had begun to spread your petals exposing the beauty underneath, you were picked. So then the colors began to fade into deep brown hues as they withered away. Watching each petal slowly deteriorate into nothing but dust, you were picked. You weren’t permitted the proper time to bloom into all the various undertones and hues that brighten up the dullness of the world. Your beauty, yet to be truly revealed, left behind a vast world of wonders.