The Lonely Rose

There once was a yellow rose bush. And on that yellow rose bush sat a yellow rose. Not 4 yellow roses, or 3... Just one yellow rose. The yellow rose sat there every day and watched the people pass by, not caring to stop and notice that one lonely yellow rose. 

One day as the rose was watching the nasty looking rain clouds roll in, a group of young boys ran towards the one little rose. They picked the peddles off of the yellow rose, one by one, until there was nothing but one yellow rose peddle left. The boys threw the peddles about, thinking nothing of it, and snickered and ran away.

The yellow rose sat there and waited for time to come and wilt the yellow rose away. The day the rose thought it would be his last, the rose saw out of the corner of his eye, a little blossom. The rose assumed he was hallucinating, and ignored the blossom. But he couldn't help but feel the teeniest bit of hope, that at last he had found a friend.

The next day, the yellow rose saw that the blossom was now a rose. A beautiful young, vibrant red rose. The yellow rose reached for the red rose's peddle, with the last bit of strength that he had, and grasped one of the red rose's peddles. 

From that point on, people would stop and stare at the two roses that had joined peddles.