It is rather sad how easily fooled people are,

Smartest of living creatures, so they say,

Yet a dog, or cat can tell when a person is sad,

But one fake, forced smile and a laugh that is a lie,

Will lead people to believe that you are fine.

And now as I cry I don't know

If my cold tears are that of sadness,

Or that of anger,

Anger that such a place as this is real.

Because nothing makes sense,

And nobody really cares.

Everyone hurts themselves some way.

And you tell that you're here,

But I cannot see you.

Everything is black without you by my side.

It's a cold and dark place to be.

You are my sweet torture, my rose.

Your personality being the petals,

My love for you being the stem,

And the fact that you'll never look twice,

That would be those oh-so-painful thorns.

But would I love you without those thorns?

Yes I think I would.

Would you seem as sweet?

Yes I believe you would.

Because the thorns have nothing

To do with the sweet-smelling petals.

Without your stem would you still stand tall?

Would you exist without it giving you nutrients?

I will never find out just how much

How much you need that stem.

But it is not my place to remove it from you.

My precious rose that stem is yours forever,

And sadly so are those thorns.