Exquisitely scented, beautifully petalled, long stemmed,
You shared them with me in all their glory,
I was in awe of their splendour
But then I noticed, they had thorns too,
Thorns which didn't reduce their beauty, rather made them real,
When I asked you about the thorns,
You hid your callused hands away,
And denied their existence,
You didn't want to lose the admiration of their beauty,
And I didn't want to overlook the reality of their thorns,
Meanwhile, the roses withered