Rose petals fall like broken gems
The green of thorns makes its haste
To destroy the outside, and protect the stem.
Alas as the thorns force and prick
It cannot protect stand guard for all
And you never know when one petal chooses to stick.
A dangerous choice, for the petal might wilt
But the thorn gives its first pause
For the last petal to watch them tilt.
Strange for the thorns, to not prick this loom
But the petal has been pricked many
And just wished for the thorns to bloom.
The petal still waits
One by one for the thorns
To grow out their stem
And release their tainted horns.
Slow but steady the petal is willing to wait
Sticking through the thorns that prick
Allowing the thorn to mend a broken state.
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12 AM Thoughts || Original Midnight Poetry
PoetryDo you ever smile at 12 AM, staring at the moon, Watching as stars glisten by, Coloring the darkness Only for the sun to take them away too soon? Wonders so full of amusement at the night sky, Smiling at 12 AM With an imagination And hearts full of...
