My red rose is so exposed,

To all those demons.

It doesn’t know it was chose,

For all the wrong reasons.

 

To strive to grow and be fruitful,

But now rendered unusable.

It’s not its fault it’s beautiful

How do you explain the inexcusable?

 

You hold the broken petals,

As you would hold her,

Lean close and

Gently whisper,

 

"Listen here, and listen well,

I’ve seen it all from here to hell.

 

The seasons change, but people don’t,

They’ll kill the flower that’s meant to grow.

So take the blows, one by one,

Don’t give up what you have won.

And don’t lose hope, ‘cause God knows

That you’re the unbreakable rose.”

 

So put the petals down, and watch her grow.

Bend down, pat the ground,

Whisper a gentle song,

A lullaby to a broken rose,

Pleading, “stay strong

Stay strong…

                        Please don't go"