Black Roses, A Raven and Dark Shadows

Black Roses Pop in the oddest of Places

A black rose can be a mother, a sister, or a friend, some are selfish, and rude, full of self-doubt, and hate, some come in the guise of a concerned person. But don't be fooled by that mask of sincerity, and all so loving concern. It is an illusion, one to confuse another person, to only bring them down, and harass, or make themselves, the wielder of thorns look better and think they have the power over you. As so does my own family, the stealers of one's thunder, the treatment, the sick and twisted path they have chosen to take. My sister has chosen a path of loneliness, she allows herself to be comforted by those that are not true friends, but harbingers of chaos. Thes harbingers, these vipers are the very thorns that prick and cause blood to flow, the hurt and anguish they put upon others. They lie they tell fake stories, with their forked tongues, they bully and harass, and even pour out personal things on a blog, (for these blogs and social media online are nothing more than a modern poison pen.) Those that harbor hate and jealousy are the narcissistic and sociopathic personality's I have chosen to stay away from, they create stories or memories in their own minds to make one look bad, like my sister has done, she has created such a web of lies, over the years, that she believes it and she has her so called friends believing it, and writing such lies, posting pictures to piss me off. But what can you expect of a jealous childish brat. She has no bloom, not even the black rose, she is all thorns, and her friends alike, I have for years taken, and sat back and wondered why such hate, until "ahh, it stems from my mother, and my younger aunt, they stir and stir, until there are no more petals, even the black ones withered and dried, the thorns prevail, but who wants to be a thorn? I preferred to keep those black roses, as a reminder never to let them rule the garden, but to be wary of those that you cannot trust.

The black roses are still in my garden to reminded me that some people you cannot trust, what is sad a sister that turns her back on you and a mother that supports the toxic sister, that poisonous blood flows through their veins, where did it come from, well I will tell you, jealousy, envy, resentment, vulgar words, abusiveness, all builds up into poison, like Rappacini's daughter , to keep her under her father's control her blood was fused with toxic poison, so everything she touched died. Well sometimes people build up their own poison, just by being cruel to another, hitting and beating them verbally and physically, and jealousy always rears its ugly head. 

Black roses remind us to keep the forked tongues, out of hearing range, and see with our eyes the nastiness they spew, and talk to them no more.

People have a way of trying to bait you, make you think they have the upper hand, and they are in control, they taunt and tease, and continue to terrorize you, play like you don't hear them, see them or view what they put on social media, ignoring them, gets to them better then pointing out what they are doing, especially when it falls on deaf ears, like my mother, in her eyes my sister does no wrong, and her grown grandsons that still live with mommy are so perfect, well they have no work ethic, and no responsibilities, they never have , and probably never will, there cocky and rude. So, I have no time for the democrat elite, or so they think there elite. So, I continue to tend the black roses that pop up, and discard them accordingly as I see fit, and my Garden is more beautiful then ever.