Roses, the kind that never fade were everywhere.
Kisses, the kind that never washed away were placed there.
And I, a stupid girl, was somewhere else on a train going home,
home to you
thinking, hoping you to be there.
But you weren't.
And I cried.
I cried myself to sleep that night as it it were any other night -
except you weren't beside me to feel my tremors...
Kisses, yours I wanted never see again.
Roses, they always died.