I'm Nothing More

You might like it if I was shady like you.
I’d become something more than just a shadow,
more than a blackened rose going crisp.

I'm a horrid thing laying limp in the sun,
leaving my perfume to lingering on the wind.

I’m more to you than this shady rose bud
laying in your unforgiving hands,
Waiting to crush me.
Lift weekend
forgotten by time,
wilted,
crusted,
and rotten.

Life has no need for shady affairs,
me forgotten.
I’m nothing more than a
Shady Black Rose.