A single rose

I stand before you,
a single rose in my hand
who would’ve knew 

here we would be
three years down the line
after I finally gain courage
to stand before you

I place the single rose
on the soft, vibrant, dewy grass
after three years I am here

your grave is clean and neat
but not because of me.
Regret threatens to spill through tears

why could I not help?
Why has it took me so long to see you?
It took me three years

to bring you a single rose