The wrong type of Rose

In the garden of roses I found a white rose with a unique essence such smell I never knew before It's colors amazed me its shape melted me in a second I was under the spell of its figure I sat there to contemplated its beauty wanting to make it mine as I pick her her thorns went through my flesh making me bleed I thought it was worth it for such unique rose but once in my hands I saw the truth for this rose was no different at all under the spell of its beauty laid a sad reality the essence was gone the beauty had vanished it was a rose not meant for love but just for beauty a shallow rose, that makes you cry and leaves u empty it was the wrong type of rose.