A/N: I thought it would be funny to write a poem where someone was compared with a rose but in a bad way. And somehow, this came out.
He often tells me that his love is like a rose.
And I think “No kidding, boy, you sure hit it on the nose”.
Sure, she’s pretty and she smells so lovely too.
But her personality is her thorns, that vengeful, spiteful shrew.
