I never liked the smell of flowers
so bittersweet and sour
behind that simple, lovable, face
lies a prickly, sadistic, satire

So many people seem to forget
that on every rose lies a thorn
but yet to roses and their sickly cousins
people's hearts and love are sworn

All we see is a perfect circle
eternally a logo to true simplicity
but in reality that deceptive grin
is home to a labyrinth of untold intricacy

And so I could never stand the smell of flowers
that giggling honey so cool and sly
for I could never shake off the feeling
that those petals are but home to a lie