A Rose for a Rose

Inspired by the picture “A rose for a rose”, made by one of my friends.

Many thorns of love,

So far to fall,

So slight a cut;

Yet so much blood.

You could prick a finger,

Or slice a wrist.

But, all the same,

It hurts like hell.

You can miss

The thorns once,

And cut yourself

Another time.

Red, blue,

Pink or

Even black;

It makes no difference.

Small or large.

The color,

The size…

It hurts all the same.

Such a beautiful crimson,

Can be so horrible?

Love and passion,

To blood and death…

The rose is a symbol

Of love and devotion.

But, also one of

Pain and pestilence.

How do you pick?

Which one it will be?

Do you love?

Or do you die?

Such a lovely thing,

The cause of so much pain.

But, can we truly blame a rose

For being a rose?

Do we really get to choose,

Who our parents are?

Or what race?

Or what religion?

If the rose has to be one

Who causes so much pain

Not even of its own accord,

Why should we not suffer also?

Why should a creature so innocent,

So peaceful, and pleasant,

Be forced to represent

Something to horrid?

Why should ones who love

Be torn apart?

Not allowed happiness,

And broken inside?

So the truth of it all

Is that we do not choose,

Who will live,

And who will die.

All of the pain,

And the drama,

The broken hearts,

And shattered dreams.

The rose has its fate,

And we all have ours.

It is not something to be chosen,

Just like our family.

As the saying goes

“A rose for a rose”

A heart for a thorn

A flower for a life…