Roses aquire many thorns
Unique and desirable
But menacing
Gingerly now, you may prick your finger
Prick your finger and watch
The red liquid will drip from the source
Down
Ripple in the pond below
Infect the clear with its murderous color
Spreading apart like when paint touches water
Disturb the silence
Disrupt the peace
The pain will seep in
Subtle, yet stinging
But roses, oh how lovely they are
The scent engulfs your senses
The image puts you in a trance
No matter the beauty they bring
They always, sting

Hither and Thither


© thecryingchild