Hinting the youngest rose
She wasn't that fascinating
She wasn't that spectacular
She wasn't anything special
Or so she thought
The grand flower path,
The elder roses elaborated
Where love isn't near hatred
Hope is far from disappointment
Tears verge away from pain
And sanity is distant from oppression
A place filled with whimsy
A place truly remarkable
A place where the rose and even lone stewartias can blossom eternally
Just because it's my birthday today.
I really see this as a weird poem. Probably cause I was quite tipsy making it.