A Writer's Cramp Entry
"The rose bush had seen better days"
Like us it needed to mend it's ways
It had worked hard all its life
It would leave two children and a wife.
A blight had sealed the rose bush's fate
It would die peacefully without hate
No grave would await the bush's demise
There were no feelings in it's mate's eyes.
It just hung there near the fence
Its roots buried deep in remembrance
Nothing more would it leave behind
It would go the way of its kind.
Death would hold off no more you see
Death would set the rose bush free.
No iambic meter intended.