The Rose that Grew From Concrete.

There's a garden far away from here, a place unknown.
Where the sun shines a different color, and magnificent creatures roam.
People ignore it, as if it has no significant meaning at all; yet somehow the trees still manage to grow tall.
As I journeyed there one rainy December, I caught sight of something I will always remember.
Hidden in the heart of the garden, was a rose that grew from concrete.
Surrounded by hideous and envious weeds,the hardships of life the rose was sure to meet.
For the rose was beautiful; full of life.
But unfortunately, with this came a harsh and cruel price.
So I watched it strive with life,day by day.
Until there came the day when I was sure it would never wither away.
For the rose grew strong with only the sun as it's friend,but even the strongest of things decease in the end.
Until one glorious day when the rose stood with all it's pride, it was obvious that it was barely surviving it's last tides.
The petals once colored of a fresh spilled blood red, were now frail and dead.
So as the last petal stood on the rose quite shy, it gracefully fell to the floor as if saying it's last goodbyes.
The last day I came to see the rose once full of grace, the wind whispered in the air and caressed my face.
And as I look at the place where the rose that grew from concrete once stood,
I saw a glowing red petal in it's place.