Like a rose armed with thorns
to drive away beasts of nature
until that fateful someone is born
who'll love its beauty and painfully endure.
Maybe our weak points aren't weak at all.
In order to defend us; for us to stray away
from those before our true love's call.
Imperfections are perfect in their own way.
So as a flower doesn't move and find
a bee that would appreciate the sight,
the bee itself should be one to mind
a flower blooming after days and nights.
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Life in Poetry
PoëzieRandom poetry attempts about life. Sparks of inspiration amidst all confusion. I hope I could inspire you all with these. So if you love it, just say so. If you hate it, I love you even so. Don't be afraid to leave a comment if you have to say any...
