we grow it with hope,
nurturing it with sunshine and water,
giving it food, and hoping for harvest one day.
but life is not a bed of roses.
even roses too,
blossom and wither.
though every rose is unique,
just as the little prince thought,
' suppose i happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except my planet.'
i have got a little prince one, and he came to water my flower.
but the flower didnt get to blossom,
and it had withered.
its a cycle of nature,
and the cycle of life.
perhaps there will be another sunset,
and another time grow the rose.
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