Poems

When I think of love I see a rose. A bush of roses protected by thorns like the walls we build up to protect our heart. People walking by wanting to pick one but are scared of the thorns. They see the true natural beauty but don't want to get hurt trying to pick it. But when they do pick one rose they stop because it hurts them in the process. When someone is persistent with picking a rose wanting to have it now to just throw it away, that's when I'll let the thorns go.