The Thorn

Thorns

His eyes; His smile;

Oh they entice me so;

A beautiful Flower in a field of thorns;

His promise; His heart;

They feel like my home;

The Flower, such a wonderful fragrance;

His lies; His deceit;

Oh they hurt me so;

Away from the Flower I run;

I forgot, the Rose has the sharpest thorn.

Stupid Child

Stupid Child;

The Thorn stung you,

Yet you pick Him up again;

“I won’t get stung this time”

Stupid Child;

The Thorn stings,

Find a new Field;

“But I love this Field”

Stupid Child;

The Thorn’s sting,

Is the most painful:

“But the Rose is the most beautiful”

Stupid Child.

I hate Roses

Roses, I hate Roses;

His Thorns do nothing but sting;

Roses, such an enticing scent they emit;

This single Rose, smells like a thousand Strawberries;

Capturing my heart, my own personal Drug;

Roses, such a beautiful sight to see;

Like a majestic Waterfall, the most pure;

Roses, such sharp Thorns;

He stings everything He touches;

Including my heart;

I’m leaving this Field;

Roses, I hate Roses.

My Wish

Swinging silently in the air;

My feet dangling towards the ground;

Wind blowing my hair softly;

I watch the grass run;

Back and forth under my feet;

The tree creaks with each swing;

The bright full moon shines on my back;

Swinging here I feel so free;

A cloud slowly covers the moon;

Like a blanket covering a child;

Ready for slumber;

The darkness surrounds me and takes me in;

The Thorn can never sting me again;

I am finally free;

Hanging here in this tree;

That is my wish.

Welcome Home

Welcome back;

You were gone for so long;

We've truly missed you;

Picking your sweet Flower;

Did you find new place?

A new place to call Home?

Obviously it didn't go well;

‘Cause you’re back here;

Right where you belong;

Back to your adoring Field;

Back to your true Home;

Back to where your beautiful Rose awaits;

Welcome Home.

Strangled

What is this tingling inside?

My beautiful Rose kneeling down before me;

Something is in his hand but;

The room around me spins;

Like a black vortex;

Trying to draw me in;

My Rose looks up at me and smiles;

His face pure like a glistening angel;

But his eyes;

I can see past this dark façade;

The room stands still;

I can now see in his hand;

Lies a beautiful ring;

Strangled by Thorns.

Goodbye

My Rose begins to fade;

As the ring falls to the Earth;

Thorns shattering;

Petals withering;

Turning sickly white;

Thorns growing evermore sharp;

Stinging at the slightest touch;

Blood dripping down my arm;

I had been stung once again;

Goodbye my sweet Rose;

I won’t let you sting me anymore.