Every rose has a thorn,
but they are so beautiful.
How can something so small
be so extremely versatile?

Each one has a story,
they'll all be glad to share.
It's just so sad to know
that nobody would ever care.

You know what, words,
these words are pathetic.
There is no use to this pain
and I hate people empathetic.

All hearts are black,
so whats the point of love now?
Nobody will admit it
but we are all already dead somehow.

The world is ending,
not from 2012, but greed.
There were warnings long ago
warnings nobody had the sense to heed.

Oh forget this crap,
forget my words and all about me.
I think it'd be better if I died
and went off to forever be free...