Fragile little petals,
Born with a face of blood,
And with a body of thorns,
But they still don't want to leave,
Because they are used to it,
"Roses live in thorns",
It's just like human life,
And a bitter truth,
Roses get thorns,
Thorns get roses,
Good get bad,
Bad get good,
Even though it has a thorned body,
But it is dead when it's separated,
It become fragile and lifeless,
Because it was used to that pain,
The rose was used to its thorns,
It was used to the pain in its body,
And whoever loved it has to pluck it with its body,
Because they feared it would die without its thorny body,
Just like humans die when seperated from its body,
Roses are just like humans,
