You were like the rose—
Sweet, loving, and red.
You were also like its thorns—
Piercing, sharp, but still beautiful.
Meanwhile, I'm just a little grass,
Growing underneath you.
Blown away by the wind—
Ignored, fragile, and small.
I feed upon your love,
While getting scarred by your thorns.
I love, I bleed,
And I fall.
But, it's worth it.
Everything is.
Just to have a little taste,
of your piercing,
yet one of a kind,
love.