- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Rose
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The Rose
That single rose amoung the weeds and thistles always looks the prettiest,
always smells the best,
because its simple beauty stands out so much from those all around it
and you will scratch and sting yourself for that rose because
you know you must have it, you know it must be yours
and its too good to leave behind
but theres others who have noticed the glorious rose and theyre after it too,
you must have it, it must be yours
to leave without the rose after suffering so much to get there is madness
but even after you grab the rose and hold it tight protecting it from the others
the very rose itself hurts you its thorns digging deeper than any scratch from the weeds
and the tighter you cling onto it the sharper it bites but
you must have it it must be yours
the rose doesnt look so innocent now but whats the point in giving in now
youve endured this much youve kicked aside the weeds and stood on the thistles
you got through the rips tears and stings
it must be yours
if only you can push through the last bit of pain
and endure the rose long enough to escape the others
who will try to pry the rose from your bloody hands
only then will you be happy with your rose
you must succeed you must endure you must do it you must have it you want it and for as long as
you can keep it it will be yours.
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