Roses are red
But how bland a label
This shallow bud
Beneath is unstable
The roots have been dried
Thorns steeped in pain
Starving for sun
Gasping for rain
But the pretty flower
Is all that one sees
When one takes no time
To glance inches beneath
And so are these people
In this new distant world
Who make snap judgements
Strangers stories they curtail
Strangers starving for love
Strangers gasping for a friend
Strangers who without us
Starve and suffocate in the end
So don't just stop and smell
The roses that you see
Take time to know the thorns
And roots underneath
