A rose is a gift of affection
Beautiful in every aspect,
And endurance is its asset.
Withheld from nourishment
Yet, It will not wither away.
When you behold its beauty
You cannot believe in its pain
Its pleasures ****** your brain
With enticement and excitement
Paving the way. Tears of Joy,
Are met with tears of met
When you touch the rose,
And the thorns have came.
They dig deep in your flesh
And make you feel
You have nothing left.
What a 360 this rose had made.
If only you knew its other nam