She held a rose,
Between her fingers.
Paying no attention to the pain
Which the thorns caused.
She carressed the rose,
Recognizing its beauty,
Yet unaware of the pain it caused her to
Feel.
She held a rose,
Until her fingers were smudged red,
With her own petals' ink.
Spreading through her hand,
She realized,
That pain is not felt until suddenly seen.