Poem: The rose with thorns

The rose with thorns

The garden was enormous
Beautified by flowers of all kind
Yet I didn't notice any of them
Other than you, little red rose.

You weren't like those dancing lillies
You were solo, calm but beautiful
That I ended up plucking you
And now I admit, my mistake.

Holding you in my hands was heaven
Something that I've never felt before
Looking at you closer
I couldn't take my eyes back.

I never wanted to let you go
So that I held you in my hand so tight
And I didn't even realize that
Your thorns pierced deep inside.

You were so charming red
That the bleeding hands of mine
Didn't even looked red
And I didn't feel the pain then.

I welcomed the thorns myself
Because i thought that might
Keep you mine forever
And I let the thorns take root.

The thorns did take root
Deep inside, so much deep
Still I was happy and a fool
That I thought it will keep you mine.

But eventually my hands loosened
Not because it was tired
But I came to realise that
My hands weren't worthy.

Not worthy enough to hold
The rose, the innocent rose
Not worthy enough to hold
The rose, the piece of heaven.

I am not like your garden
I am the sun that will eventually
Make you gloomy
So I decided to let go.

It was hard, really hard
To let go something that
Has taken such deep root
Till the deapth of my heart.

But I had to, for the rose's good
For a rose that was mine
For a rose that was meant forever
For the rose of my life.

Dear little rose I'm sorry
It may hurt cutting the roots
But you're young, you're good
A better hand will find you.

I was wrong with the thought
That cutting the roots was worst
No it isn't, there is a life afterwards
A life looking at the hands mostly.

The thorns did go actually
But it do really hurt now
More pain than those days
With the thorns inside.

It did bleed everyday everytime
And the blood made me remember
Those days with a charming
Red piece of heaven in hand.

I need a heal from the wounds
The roots are still in the heart
Half dead, still growing thorns on it
And I cannot live it anymore.

But I can't let the roots go
It is the part of the rose still in me
And I think it is better that
Let the roots die with me.