My Roses

In high school, I collected roses. Actually, I just dried and kept all of the roses that people gave me. I hung them by pins all over my room. There was a time when I could tell you every rose I ever received, and even point out which one was which.
My junior year-

My Roses

Two dozen roses, plus three more,

Hung on the south wall.

From red to pink to yellow,

I've hung and dried them all.

The two from the friend who

I couldn't bring myself to love.

And two from my grandma's grave,

She looks down from above.

Two are to say good job,

As we brought titles home from state.

One from the dances, when I worked without a date.

Two are from the best friends,

Saying you are never alone.

One is from the mother's bush that grew

by my childhood home.

One decorated the house, the night of my first date.

Two from FHA, each year I led the state.

One was given in secret,

The day I thought my world would end.

One was to say thank you,

When I brought joy to a friend.

Twelve were given, six pink, six red...

All to say I'm sorry, I love you,

I guess I lost my head.

Each remind me of the beauty found in simple things.

Each tells a story, 

Oh the memory each brings.

Joy can be found, if we only take a little time.

They remind me to slow down, they clear my mind.

Two dozen roses, plus three more, hang on the south wall.

The number doesn't matter,

As long as I remember them all.