Every rose,
has its thorns.
Every joy,
has its pains.
You can sniff the field.
You can check them out.
Until you feel,
and see what that one's about
This one is special.
The pedals more red?
The stem more green?
Whatever it is,
I want to take it home with me.
Then you grab,
and you feel the thorns.
The pain that hurts,
so much more.
Once you have it,
then you realize,
that the little pricks
were worth the prize.
The little pain,
I am put through,
Is so worth
being with you.
Every rose,
has its thorns.
But I've found the one,
worth hurting for.
YOU ARE READING
Deep Thoughts
PoetryGeneral narrations of whatever is going on in my head. Wether school, friends, or love, there is an inspiration to all of these.
