soft rose petals
draws them in
(but)
then the thorns
take them out
(of the running)
soft sharp sparks
reverb through my heart
to incur the wrath of my indifference
cherry sour sharp blades
strike through the actuality
but practicality has an edge when
an ice cold breeze
freezes my soul
while I’m reminiscing of a
time I never knew
guards up
like thorns of roses
guards up
hesitant & reticent
could trust ever be
a possibility?
or a forever unreachable figment
on the horizon of time?
could there be a happily ever now?
or will the thorns be weapons forever & now?
so the soft rose petals
continue to draw them in
& the thorns continue
to take them out
guards up
like thorns of roses
guards up
hesitant & reticent
could trust ever be
a possibility?