Some people are like roses
no matter the color and how soft and delightful they look
they stand tall amongst everyone with their sharp thorns.
Nobody knows how something so beautiful could be so painful to hold on to.
It hurts to love and care for those people
They will make your hands bleed and tear your skin apart
only to leave the mark of their own broken soul
which is beyond repair.
You try to fix it, it punctures through your skin
and breaks into pieces finer than snow.
Still you remain there for that person
drowning in your own blood but hoping
that by standing amongst the tall , wild flower
you'll one day see it wither
and see all of those fine pieces of their soul
dripping down their face
and wouldn't help but wonder
how such a devilish creature
who could bring so much ache to everyone who dares to hold it
is only the one thing people never sought it as.
Mere human, who once was too blinded to see the sharp thorns
which were ripping through their own fragile skin.
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