Life
Life is like a blooming rose,
As time passes older it grows.
A child begins in a mother’s womb,
A flower a bud waiting to bloom.
As we face challenges growing old,
Flowers must fight to live through the cold.
As we grow old our appearances change,
And flowers bloom covering a wide range.
As the seasons change we seek warmth in our homes,
Flowers vanish but leave no bones.
Life is a river we are sailing,
If we try to stop then we are failing.
When we die we are like flowers,
Reborn in heaven after our final hours.
