Plastic Rose

He’ll buy her a rose for V-day –
A plastic one,
One that never dies.

Not a living rose that
Sucks up water and minerals,
Yearning for tender love and care.

Love.

If only it could be expressed in words.

Then he would write a ballad
And serenade her under the stars.

But that’s not how it went,
Nowadays.

She didn’t want another burden;
She didn’t want another thing
To take care of.

She wanted a plastic rose –
Ready-made, immortal,
Artificial.

She wouldn’t have to water it
With her tears everyday.
She just needed a perfume bottle

To bottle up love.

But it’ll have no fragrance,
It’ll have no life,
But it’s immortal.