An early bloomed rose
Before it's disposed
Is a beauty that completely stands out
But nobody knows
How this little rose
Can go against all the doubt
Why's the rose here
This early in the year
Why do things happen this way
We all know its doom
All muddled in gloom
It won't be here to stay
I'd like to know why
It has to die
Far before any other
And I don't suppose
Any other rose
Will acknowledge the fall of its brother
A little child
Happy and wild
That chose to live without fears
Lost her smile
After a while
And replaced laughter with tears
Why is it so
Some have to go
To the place no one quite knows
Why do the innocent die
Not being able to give life a try
Like a lonely, early-bloomed rose