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.
A/N: Somehow this originally free verse turned into a sonnet… guess I just looove structure 😄
My favourite flower is the simple rose,
And isn’t that dreadfully boring?
How ordinary isn’t it, to pick a rose?
When you in the rainforest could go exploring?
But I just love the rose, it cannot be helped,
It’s beauty is just so very simple,
So I stand here now, and I proudly state,
That yes, sir, the rose is my symbol.
So sweet a scent if you handle with care,
Though blood will flow if you do not.
There’s a reason the rose is a symbol of love,
Though I can still feel you call it boring in your thoughts.
But if the rose is so ordinary, so let it be,
But for me; complex beauty is all that I can see.