And slowly I start to realize as my life follows behind. When I see a rose, I see beauty in its simplest form, Wearing those survival scars proudly from the storm. When I see a rose, I see all the pain it can cause. With thorns like steal it forces those to take a metaphorical pause When I see a rose, I see the pain that lies within Cutting off the roses’ lifeline should be considered sin When I see a rose, I see as the world kills it. Slowly but surely the beauty’s wounds catch up with it. When I see a rose, I see, well I see hope and love inside What do you see when you see a rose?