i heard you like bedtime stories:
once upon a time,
there was a rose.
she wore silky white dresses,
drank tea with lots of sugar,
read about Greek philosophers,
spoke in a dozen different languages.
it wasn’t until the thorns began to grow on her that people feared her.  
a statue, she stood, in the town’s market.

“un peu de tendresse,
un peu d’amour,
aimez la belle rose!”

would you like to save the rose?
would you like to be her?
a yellow rose?
(make friends out of statues)
or a red rose?
(love every drop of life)
possibly white?
(kindness.)

“la tendresse me sauvera.”
but it was tenderness that wilted her.