III 5d

The girl who tied
     Roses around her
     Tongue in hopes
To taste no evil
Bled to death
    With thorns
          In her teeth.

Part 1
Hi De 6d

Rose indeed have thorns
But it's a risk I'm willing to take

If I wish to have that rose,
I must accept that it comes with thorns

And I think it's what makes it beautiful

If I got hurt by the thorns, then It's my fault for holding such a beautiful creation the wrong way.
Kaylee Jan 10

My Crown Of Thorns is weighted too heavy
I am no martyr but still my
arms reach out
patched with burns from the judgement;
my blood will distill to their wine
and my tears
to their eyes.

emmaa Jan 7

i might have thorns
spikes
spines
quills
barbs
splinters
but i have them for
the reason
i have them is to protect
my heart is very dear to me
she keeps me alive
and so i try to return the favor
sometimes
i may do so too well
and in a way that prevents
hinders
stops
adverts
thwarts
discourages
anyone from
picking me
might be the worst decision
you could make
me do things i’d never even
dreamed of being someone’s
first choice
but those pesky thorns
spikes
spines
quills
barbs
splinters
they do a damn good job
to make sure i don’t get ruined
by someone who’d be afraid
of my
thorns

Ezzah Saleem Dec 2017

Her eyes were cold,
Her lips were pale,
Her heart was frozen,
Her smile was broken,
Her soul was empty,
Her face was spotted with regrets and pain,
Her mind was possessed by some unknown powers,
Her emotions were burried when she was a young girl,
She was a peacock in a cage,
Beautiful but locked.
She had no words and no voice
For silence ruled her.
Her memory was her enemy
For it left her alone everytime.
Her fears? They were uncountable, infinty.
Her thoughts? They would haunt her.
Her dreams? They failed.
Her people? They ditched.
She was a dead flower,
No color, no fragrance,
Only thorns attached
And petals crushed.
That was her identity.

My Name Is Pexi Dec 2017

This life is but a garden bed,
The rain it comes and goes,
You can prick yourself on all the thorns,
Or you can learn to love the rose.

Akash Mandal Nov 2017

Her despairing mind
searched for thorns
on her floral print dress.

Britney Lyn Nov 2017

Your name felt like thorns on my tongue.
Oh, but how I longed to see the rose you once were.
I admired you even as you wilted.
Even now, dead.
But I miss the flushed color of you, the velvet of your petals against my flesh.
The pains you left on my heart.
The mess you left in my head.

I no longer like the smell of roses, because none of them smell like you.
Michael Briefs Nov 2017

This floral world
surrounds
her blackened wings.
Thorns hover, blood-stained,
above ashen lips...
they taste the sting.
The flight of myriad starlights
shows the way
for the final plunge
of the lonely tomb.
The creature is revealed...
it has arrived.
She has found us.
She has come home.

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