Does she know her petals ignite admiration in the passerby? Or does she only see her prickly stem thinking of her thick thorns her busy bush of leaves.
Her lovely scent her lush red. She admires other flowers but she does not know she is a rose.
my sky I gaze up at you like a bird with clipped wings I feel the wind in my hair I think of your soft touch and I wonder if you envy the breeze that kisses my cheek like I envy the clouds who embrace in your blue