It is so lonely here. When I was cut, my life span ended.
They stuck me in a vase of water, now quite low and mucky.
I miss my siblings. I miss the outdoors. Why do people do this to us? Are we being punished for something? Our execution involves being left in isolation until someone comes in and fingers our petals. A human nose–disgusting!–sniffs us and says roses don’t smell as good as they used to.
You’d stink, too, if you were cut off from all your kindred and left alone to rot.