Withering roses

Though the sun keeps shining,

these roses no longer expand.

Though water keeps flowing,

these roses wither in my hand.

Though I keep spraying them with perfume, 

their scent I can no longer stand. 

With every step I take toward you,

Life moves a little forward,

constantly keeping me in place. 

I can run and run and run towards you

But every time I fall on my face.

My chest tries to expand,

so that I might fit your heart.

So that I might fit your love.

But I’m a small guy,

I’ll just try and make sure that these roses don’t die.