Just like a rose
I remove your thorns
To only wear them as a crown
If this is what it will take
To make you believe my love
Then know now I love your thorns
As much as I do the rose

Thorns give us scratches,
But not all can take insults,
With delicate skin.

I love when people,
think they can do no wrong.
Think they're in charge,
of everyone else's fate.
Hurt just feel
a sense of superiority.
But,
you see,
when you play with fire,
you will get burned.
And if you play with a rose,
you will get the thorns.

Petals, plucked by "he loves me"s and "he loves me not"s,
Roses, the symbol of perfect love and eternal beauty.

Such a bright vermillion, matching
Such a dulcet aroma with
Such a charismatic lust
Emerging from layers of velvet.

Maiden's lips resemble it so, as if
Nature graced it with its own paintbrush.
Drops of dainty words and heavenly sighs escape like
Drops of dew in the calm of light at dawn.

A scent of eros romance
Rings around her neck and wrists, able to
Entrance any passersby.
Beauty of those able to challenge Aphrodite,
Whom wishes to lacerate gradually,
Fueled by hatred and jealousy.

Fair, both skin and hair.
Poise as an angel with a
Face to match.
Eyes say otherwise, however.

Yes, she is a rose, but
*Even roses have thorns.

roses peek through the cracks in your soul, your heart is overflowing with peace but your eyes remain dark brown in the sunset, is it because your flight to italy was cancelled in the middle of your worst year or because the constellations that you kept shining in your right palm; the hand with the zigzag scar from your last rollerblading accident, were given to someone who didn't even know that thorns came with soft petals too

Trapped inside a human body,
A rose with extra thorns,
A victim of a world that didn't care that she was born.

Rebirth served her well,
Now her spirit is not as torn.
Strength grew like weeds under the armor she'd worn.