What do you see when you look at me?
It's a question that lays heavy on my mind.
When you see me,
do you see the warmth of the sun,
the beauty of the rose?
Or do you only see the thorn on the rose?
Are you afraid to touch this beautiful rose,
because of the thorn that protrudes from it's stem?
Afraid that while holding this rose, one slip,
will leave you hurting, leave you bleeding.
Just be so gentle while handling it,
you will feel the silkiness of the pedals,
and consume the sweetness of it's scent.
Appreciate this beauty of nature and realize,
that every rose has a thorn...