You’d think I lived the most coveted life in the world,
But spend a day in it, and your blood would turn cold.
Yes, I’ve seen everything, and it’s definitely not easy
To just survive with my exquisite form and beauty.
Nothing could possibly be worse than the experience
Of folks sticking their noses in me for my fragrance.
And God help me if I fall in the hands of pining lovers,
Who, in pulling out my petals, get immense pleasure.
So many times, I’m crushed, squeezed, soaked, and bottled
For the perfume that helps mask the stink of people,
And woe is me if there’s a wedding that’s to take place,
For then, I’d be plucked and used to decorate their braids.
The fact that I flourish amongst an army of prickly thorns
Is not at all helpful in protecting me from these vile humans.
From professing their first love to wreaths at funerals,
I am chosen to translate their emotions and convey it all.
You’d say that I should rejoice, be proud, and feel blessed
To be so important and, on all occasions, be needed
But only I and the gardener who tends to me knows
That I am a rose, and I just want to bloom and grow.
wordsofhope 