Diffrent kinds of Wild

Rose

When she was first born they said she was a rose. Picked from the perfect garden. Filled with fire that would brighten their dark days. She had a mum who said her smile shined brighter than the sun. And a dad who said her laughter traveld through the room filling everyone in that room with joy. But the problem with rose is they only saw her beauty. They never saw the thorns that wrapped themselves around her. Makeing it hard for her to breath words of her problems. So she stayed plasterd to the thoughts of what they saw. Each thorn pricked her skin. Tears filled her eyes each night. Each instinct in her body told her to say something. But the shadows helped the thorns pull her away. Bad thoughts clinged to her mind. Like a dog clinging to an arm that will not let go. So she was forced into the dark. With only whispers of silence. Each day she played the game. Of i'm fine thanks for asking. With a white lie of a laugh. Blood spilled from her vains that swept her pain far away. Pills were her only source of food. Drinking water was not an option. As it wouldn't wash away the feepings she felt each day. And in the end she faded away into a grave. Left with unseen scars of her beauty. Sending sweet little laughter of smileing sorrow sorrys. And as we all know flowers are not ment to be picked. But each of their beauty will remain unhidden.