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The Rose With Thorns
The rose with thorns
Beautiful passion red rose
But dangerous with thorns
Picked off the garden wisely & hard
By a young lovable bard
Realize he was bleeding
Thought roughly about his feelings
About why the rose had thorns
Never again would he pick up the red rose with thorns
The rose only brought him pain
Thoe he did not go insane
By wanting to stomp on it
But he just forfeit on it
He just let the rose there on the ground
And the rose was hoping it would be found
So the young bard
Left the garden with a book of love cards
Checked his finger with the thorn pulled it out
finger was bleeding and never looked back at the rose with the thorns
