The Rose

Every rose has it's thorns,
But you have so many that
Those who try to pick you up
Get hurt. And those who see
Your beauty don't try for fear
Of getting pricked.

I can see that beneath
That prickly exterior is
A scent that smells like
Heaven.

I did my best, but you
Can fucking flourish on
Your own. I tried,
You lied while I cried.

Now you don't smell
So good anymore you
Whore. The only thing you
Do to me is make me
Sneeze!

by E.D. French

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