A Rose
A rose a thing of beauty,
Soaked in sweetest perfume.
Petals as soft and smooth as freshly woven silk,
To be held with love and tender care.
To me you are a rose,
In many things you are the same.
The hidden thorns that pierce my skin,
When held wrong.
The rose’s thorn I can stand take it out and throw away,
The one from you stabs my heart,
Take your thorn and let me be;
The love from you I no longer need.
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