a cafe rose
lonely and old
rests upon a table
she has seen, she knows
the coffee is cold
The bread just a little stale
she wonders why
she hasn't seen a blue sky
in so long, so long
they call her wind
she'll blow her breath again
she has been a sage
everyone is at her age
they call her old
they call her cold
she is what they say
as the doors close
left to stand alone
petals in wilt
thorns mellow
a cafe rose