my poems and short stories

A rose is a rose

In the summer, you were big and beautiful,

Blooming bright red softness

But you were still fragile.

As summer gives way to autumn,

You begin to wilt

Your beautiful petals start to fall and fade away

The colors slowly vanish from the thorns and the petals.

In the winter, it didn't seem like you'd come back.

The snow covered your petals

Burying you in a powder-white grave

You are colorless under the dying sun

but, in the spring, you are reborn

The sun restores your energy and color

And the rain makes you bloom

The thorn protects you're precious petals

Summer arrives once again, and your petals stretch as they bloom.

The red shines in the light.

You are thriving

And you find that no matter what season it was, no matter what you look like

You will always be a rose and will always be beautiful