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Stinging Roses
To wound,
As a rose would.
Not with thorns,
But sweet whispers,
A gentle touch,
Divine beauty,
And unkeepable secrets.
Ye shall feel loves cold sting,
From roses delicate string.
(Never judge a book by its cover. A beauty could very well be a beast inside and vis versa.)
© A.R.Kicinski
As a rose would.
Not with thorns,
But sweet whispers,
A gentle touch,
Divine beauty,
And unkeepable secrets.
Ye shall feel loves cold sting,
From roses delicate string.
(Never judge a book by its cover. A beauty could very well be a beast inside and vis versa.)
© A.R.Kicinski
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