Roses

Once plucked, can't be fixed.

Once left, can't be held.

Take it as a sign or no,

Band aid's got a cross mark too.

Shadows just don't

Steep down to meadows.

Look for the hills,

There are many ways

To find your chill.

Turning back is the last thing

That you've got to think.

Rise and shine with the wind,

Find reasons to shine within.

Long distance is just a barrier.

Travel so far that it

No longer sounds heavier.

Where love finds it's way back,

Roses tend to grow back.

Free your mind, find your trace.

And watch how everything else

Just falls back in place.