Just Another Wilted Rose

I hate becoming just another memory,
Another person that you remember,
But don’t bother about any more.

I remember the love that we shared,
Strong and full of fire and passion,
A youthful love under pressure.

I consider our love a wilted rose,
Taken by time and changed,
The beauty lost and tainted.

There were days I could just sit and survey your beauty,
And days you would prick me and I would bleed,
But I still loved you.

So here is to you,
Just another wilted rose,
Gone away, even though I still love you.