If ever you were to fall in love with a rose, dare not pluck it. For it’s petals long will lose their fragrance. Sooner will it’s stem lose it’s strength. Much more soon will it’s roots forget the dirt from which they came. Thorns will it shed, unable to protect itself. Wither it will, fade away. If ever you were to fall in love with a rose, still let it be. Still let it be.