Chemicals

My Rose

The vase was colourful, in the way I can very clearly remember,

The flowers were vibrant, a hue of yellow and blue, the pinks and the purples had melted into you.
This vase used to be so full, roses, daisies and Lilly's too.

I think back to planting the roses in the garden, where my grandma used to say:

It's the love from the roses that we bleed for,

But the petals mimic the stain that is left behind.

So, I tried to interpret people this way, as roses, because we must water the thorns to watch the flower bloom,

            And I quickly realised that people leave stains behind too, and that we cannot help, sometimes they wont even blossom, because they'll play a game that you cannot win.

And even with an unlimited supply of water, you'll still come up as dry,

   Until you use your water, to progress your own growth, and watch everything else slow down.

     Only then will you become the rose you were destined to be, the most beautiful.

Even though we all have the same roots, our choices make up the flower,
So, like a wildflower, you must allow yourself to grow, in places that no one expected you to,
Embrace the rain and watch the snow, chase the sunlight and move with the wind,

             And at your destination, that is where you'll win, you'll soon realise that you have everything that you need, but society made you think you didn't.

       But you're the most beautiful rose, that a rose can be, and your stories will support your stem, and as the petals are challenged, they'll be protected too, because under your hand you'll be the best kind of you.