The Rose
A simple flower with crimson petals
Painted by the hand of God
Below the beauty lies the thorns
That some might even think odd
The thorns are but a symbol
That signify His pain
The crimson red, His sacrifice
The blood, that left a stain
It's beauty honors Heaven
Petals straining toward the sky
Humbled by the morning dew
A gift, from Him on high
The flower of love, they call it
The most popular flower chose
And now you know the story
Behind the beautiful rose
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