The Rose stood tall,
Among the field of weeds

Its petals were red,
Dipped in blood

Its scent was,
An intoxicating drug

The softness of its petals
Put Eden Ducks to shame

The Rose itself,
Was an Epitome of Beauty and Fame

Nonetheless,
Beauty comes at a price

Its thorns were barriers,
Caging it in its beautiful cell

The were always there,
Ready to ***** if one got too close

The Rose wept,
Of Sorrow and Anger

For it longed,
To be a ****