The Changing Red Rose

She stands there lonely Pretty red polite good Awaiting to be noted But in vain ignored She may not know.. All good humans Do admire and go With no heart To pinch her looks Stir her pretty silence Also all good humans May not know.. She wants each one Closer to her, like her Hug and kiss her May be her prickling ilk.. Humans and she herself Frightened of I'm a passerby And a daily watcher I read her daily May be she too me Vice versa I guess Unheeded she is dull Day by day more null Changing herself pale Pensive gloom tainted Now in all urgency I want to tell her Not to be sad Not to fade out But how? What of my diction Does she know? My face gestures All consoling words But of no use She withers Like a feathered bird Hurt, pained Atlast to vanish Aside that road Outside that house On that spot there You can find Daily a red rose It's me who with Empathetic friendship Offers to my still Untalked friend Though Lady of that house Grouches 'trespassing'