He is yet a rose, graceful and lively appearing,
Yet he has threatening thorns that guard him
He grew these harsh spikes to protect his pedals.

For he has learned he can trust nobody with his
Beautiful pedals and stem, for if he does he will
Wilt and his lively crimson pedals will turn brown
And fall.

As he hides his pain of the past under his vibrant
Crimson pedals, he can't ignore his spiky guards
He has grew, for he is just a rose after all.

A rose that has wilted before, a rose that has been
Abused and neglected, and because of that this
Rose has grown thorns and lively crimson pedals
To hide them.