Poetry dump.

Roses

Stones were thrown at those who were different
We were different
We were punished for love
We were punished for the tongue in which we spoke
The way we dressed
The way we looked
And the way we loved
Roses mean love
But only for the moment of beauty
We bloomed in the morning sun
But just like roses on a vine
We were cut, at the sake of others
Just some trophies for them to look and fawn over
Destined to die in a week or so.
We rotted and slowly suffered
While they didn't pass a second glance
Once we weren't beautiful to them
Once we weren't normal to them
We were tossed out, just like wilted roses in a vase.
Nobody gave us a second thought
Nobody will ever give us any thought
We're those beautiful roses
But the moment we flourish
we're cut down and put in a vase.
Destined to die in the thorns of our love.