If I was a Rose,
Would you love me
For my beauty?
Or would you mind the thorns
Which proudly protect me?
If I was a Rose,
Would you enjoy
My delightful scent
As it slowly fills the room?
Or would you pinch your nose against it?
If I was a Rose,
Would you admire
My striking Red?
Or would your eyes shy away
From my petals raging color?
If I was a Rose,
Only the most gentle of hands
Would dare to hold me.
If I was a Rose,
Only tender touches
Would linger far longer.
If I was a Rose,
Only those that love me
Would gaze in awe.
If only I was a Rose,
I sigh as I lament
At such injustice;
Yet I remember--
Roses are delicacies
Enjoyed everywhere
Just for a glimpse of their beauty,
And thus for sought.
Roses are adored,
And for that
They are plucked
As a symbol of love.
Roses are given,
From lover to lover
As to share with each other
Their unspoken devotion.
Roses are rarely
Left to grow wildly
Unperturbed and untouched
For they are always wanted.
If I was a Rose,
Would I only be loved
Because of my beauty?
If I was a Rose,
Would I only be enjoyed
For my delightful scent?
If I was a Rose,
Would I only be admired
For the color on the outside?
Then what will happen
Once my beauty ends;
When my scent no longer delights,
When my red no longer shines.
What will happen to me?
Will I simply wither
Then be left and tossed?
And so with all the love gone,
No one left to gaze at me
What will I have left?
Everything I had
Was just as delicate
As the light petals
Which day by day have gone away.
Yet I still believe
If I was a Rose,
I would not mind it,
If only to be your Rose.
