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Pretty hurts
Beautiful to the eye
But that can also be a lie
Deeper than what you see
Further than what you reach
To understand the true meaning
You need to be one.
It hurts but it does not intend to hurt people
You only feel the pain when you hold on too tight.
But who is to be blamed
If to the sight its deceiving
And to the smell its betraying
And to the touch its inviting
Sometimes the good is the bad the pretty is the ugly the peace is the animosity and what feels home becomes unsafe.
There needs to be true sight
For it to be seen, by its
true colors.
For it its not a rose
But a wild flower that holds
A crown of thorns and
That's its pride.

© fessy