A rose early to bloom has no thorns,
It is weak to the world and must survive
Where those with defenses stand strong.
Forced early into color it shows up weak,
A pale fragile thing amongst reds.
Pink amongst the vibrancy of life.
You forced me to bloom before my time,
And now I battle in a world that I should not be in.
Sinful of you, to throw me amongst the roses.
Here I battle for my life
Gaining scratches and wishing to be a bloom.
To once again return to where I was,
Before you forced me into life.
A rose early to bloom is surrounded by woe.
It is beautiful in it's fragility,
And when the roses begin to wither,
It is always the first one to go.
