the rose, scented and floating across from me
its thorns were prominent and sharp
a means of protection for the delicate creature
red pigment screamed to the sun
wishing to meet the sun´s eyes
the petals stretched and reached with the leaves

he stayed perched up in the skin
blinding those who got too near to him
the sun never took notice of the bleak rose
he was busy shining for the world around,
drying children off as they played in the cold ocean waves
deepening the nutmeg color in the skin of those who let him

so the rose whined, and reached endlessly for what she could never grasp
and the sun continued to do his job, never realizing the fulfillment he would've had,
if only he took a chance