I am a rose

I couldn't sleep the other night, so i decided to write a poem-normal enough, right? There is no super specific meaning behind it, but if you can find something between the lines, it doesn't mean it isn't there. It sounds a little depressing, I guess that reflects the kind of mood I was in. This is not my favorite poem that I have ever written, but it works.

Rose

You've found my thorns
And you've felt them:
Sharp green needles that barb your skin

Thats all you talk about,
My thorns.
Yet, that's not me.

A rose is not known by her thorns alone.

I have petals too! Delicate petals
So soft, so fragile
Yet the elegant layers of red
Are powerful and fragrant.

You cantry and dry me up
So I crumble in your hand
Or pluck my gossamer petals
'Til I'm plain and cold.

But I am a rose regardless
Despite your selfish efforts.
So you might as well give up.
Your efforts are a dull poison.

You are only pricking yourself.


Ciao!

Katy