White Rose

A White Rose grows in a bed of weeds, Spawning bad intentions and evil deeds Suffocated and soon invaded, This rose knows what it needs, For no one thinks a White Rose, --So pure and serene, No one thought it did--but it knows what it needs, A Red Rose sprouts through the cruel concrete, Stubbornly walking without having feet, Ironic it seems, holding to it's dreams, This rose learned how to breathe, For no one thinks a Red Rose, --So simple and ordinary, No one thought it could--but it learned how to breathe, A Black Rose bloomed in the dark of the night, Unsung and labeled as an ugly sight, Neglected and still, solid it's will, The rose knows how to fight, For no one thinks a Black Rose, --So shadowed and wicked, No one knew it would--but it still bleeds red.