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Description
That rose, that beautiful thing,
symbolizing love, yet it can sting.
Red petals fall to the ground,
you make not one single sound.
I want to hold it closer, yet it causes pain,
I wish I could say the red was just a stain.
How I yearn for it, but I can't do anymore,
and I leave it there, on the cold hard floor.
Better to hate it then love, shall I say,
yet so beautiful, I wish I could stay.
But it causes these pricks that make me wince,
I've fought the urge to cry ever since.
Such beauty, why must it hurt me like this,
its soft pedals I still miss.
Teasing, isn't it, that damn flower,
to watch it in the rain shower.
To watch it bloom without any need,
and if you try to help it, it causes you to bleed.
Why must the prettiest things cause such pain,
with only loss, no gain.
You can only stand there and let it be,
never can I hold it too close to me.
You can only leave it, and dare not to touch,
to let it stay in its gorgeous hutch.
For if you touch it, you can see your own red,
as if the rose on your blood had fed.

Gorgeous things that can not be taken,
is clearly not allowed, it shall forever be
forsaken.
No matter the beauty, or perfection of it,
all I can ever do is despise it while I sit.
Perhaps one day I can hold that flower close
to my heart,
but for now, all I can do is wait to start.

Description
That rose, that beautiful thing,
symbolizing love, yet it can sting.
Red petals fall to the ground,
you make not one single sound.
I want to hold it closer, yet it causes pain,
I wish I could say the red was just a stain.
How I yearn for it, but I can't do anymore,
and I leave it there, on the cold hard floor.
Better to hate it then love, shall I say,
yet so beautiful, I wish I could stay.
But it causes these pricks that make me wince,
I've fought the urge to cry ever since.
Such beauty, why must it hurt me like this,
its soft pedals I still miss.
Teasing, isn't it, that damn flower,
to watch it in the rain shower.
To watch it bloom without any need,
and if you try to help it, it causes you to bleed.
Why must the prettiest things cause such pain,
with only loss, no gain.
You can only stand there and let it be,
never can I hold it too close to me.
You can only leave it, and dare not to touch,
to let it stay in its gorgeous hutch.
For if you touch it, you can see your own red,
as if the rose on your blood had fed.

Gorgeous things that can not be taken,
is clearly not allowed, it shall forever be
forsaken.
No matter the beauty, or perfection of it,
all I can ever do is despise it while I sit.
Perhaps one day I can hold that flower close
to my heart,
but for now, all I can do is wait to start.