Mother Nature
I held a rose today
I grasped its thorns aggressively
My ring finger was pricked
As if nature had told me,
“She is far too exquisite to be tainted
by those who do not understand
the depths and complexity of her”
It had reminded me of womanhood,
when we tell those who trespass,
“You have not seen me bloom,
you have not seen my petals fall”
Their hand will reach
for my coffee colored petals,
but grip my thorns instead
This poem is about:
Our world