Along the Lines of Roses

Roses are beautiful things, so rich in color. They represent love when red, friendship when yellow, and purity when white. Chosen for their beauty and innocence, they are the background of many pictures and adorn weddings, funerals, and other occasions.
They sit in vases on our countertops, soaking in vitamin-enriched water. Slowly, the life is drained out of them, and for our pleasure. We hold on to them, knowing they will die soon enough, and when their time comes and they are exhausted and wilting, we will throw them out, and find a new replacement, but at least we enjoyed their vitality while it lasted.
They hang from a noose made of ribbon, the life also draining out of them imminently. While they will die just as the others, their beauty will be preserved in part. Their jaded, dead shells will sit in empty vases, hang on walls, or be tucked safely on a shelf as a tribute to the memories that brought them there. But the life is sucked out of them, yet we hang on tightly to them, to the memories, because we're too scared to let them go.
There are so many things that are exactly like these roses. We choose to either enjoy their beauty while they last, or we keep the dead shells because it is too hard to let them go.