They can be beautiful Or quite clearly ugly But you're sympathetic And won't see them weep. Stained, drooping petals In undeniable rage Though its sweet fragrance masks The contagious, cold pain. How inviting, this rose seems As you touch the soft petals It cries, 'Take me, hold me, And I'll be alright.' But once you do, Remorse fills your heart As thorns рriск you quickly and sink through your flesh. The miserable rose, The source of your pain, Has seen it all too, And will do it again.
was a quick thing i wrote in my notebook then put here the moral is like uh hurt people hurt people
