I was a white flower, pure and bright,
But destiny led me to thorns in the night.
I claimed them as mine, unaware of their sting,
In their harsh embrace, I lost everything.
My petals now tarnished, my fragrance a blend,
A mingling of sorrow that seemed without end.
Yet those strange white flowers stood close by my side,
Unseeing my wounds, with hearts open wide.
They offered me color, a gift from their soul,
But didn't perceive how I was losing control.
In their kindness, they tried to lighten my pain,
While hiding their wounds, like shadows in rain.
I didn't know they were also plucked,
Their own hearts bleeding, their dreams all but struck.
In the garden of grief, we all wore a mask,
Seeking solace in colors, in love's gentle task.
