The stone sits idly by the rose
As petals fall and decompose
Waiting for the warmth and light
To thaw its heart and kill the blight
But roses have a season’s pass
While stones are hardy – built to last
And as the sun shines on the two
The rose will fade, as roses do
But roots have crept beneath the ground
Where stones preserve its thorny crown
With warmth that flows from hardened stone
The rose finds comfort of its own.

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