You were the rose, but with thorns,

One touch and I bled,

But luckily there are other flowers,

And luckily enough, 

I can also grow my own thorns. 

 

Though you were beautiful,

And wonderful in all, 

In the end you caused pain. 

So here I go,

On my own, but perfectly pleased. 

 

Your scent was divine, 

But you still ended up cutting me, 

So here I leave you, 

A dead rose on the pavement.

However I am still living. 

 

Though you hurt me, 

I moved on and I grew to be

An even more beautiful flower,

Thank you for making me

Find contentment in myself.

 

All I have is myself,

And though it wasn't enough for you, 

It is awesome that I can

Find more love in my own rose

Than the rose you left behind.