There are alot of things in my mind
Very occupied, but you I find
It seems just three magic words
That my lips can't afforf

You manage to make me smile
Even though you seem to cry
You always light up my day
And your magic light leads my way

But at times it seems you try
Not to please, but make me sad
Doing this makes me die
But I'm sorry if I made you mad

Most times it breaks my heart
Just to discover that, there's no we
And all there is, is that
We were never meant to be

don't fear my dear,
for you are a gentle rose with a solid heart
that withholds a universal intelligence.

crimson petals that are
the creations
bestowed upon our home,
we owe our gratitude.

but do not be mistaken by the thorn
although a part of you.
for it will **** right through your sentimentality and
your existence is far more than that.

you have bloomed into a garden of grace and ease
but your "duplicate" still suffers for their truth.
the fault is not at your hands,
so pay no heed to the spikes that neighbor you.

rays of mine contribute to heal your internal wounds
that could only take so much.
but don't fear my dear,
for your field shall sprout quite soon.