thorns!
hated by all, cursed by many
with no voice to speak
no power to plead innocent
always suppressed
burnt to ashes
yet they still grow when the rains come
only turned to in desperate times
but they are no where to be found
they bloom beauty
roses!
yet only the flower is accepted
preaches love and still gets killed
shows affection but taken for granted
so the the tree asks
what more can I do for you?
©charvenny
C