Rose petals wrap against each other in

their whispered secrets; too scared to reveal

the charms they own. Masks are not ever real.

Oh, when will roses open up within?

Plants, please display what is beneath your skin.

Unwrap your buds. Woe will push you to kneel

in dolor. Open and we can both heal.

I will protect you, so frail and thus thin.

Dear, no more hiding what’s part of your smile.

Buds are meant to exist in sunlight too.

The real you shouldn’t cause your heart to go close.

I promise opening up to be worthwhile.

Let petals fly to the sky and be true.

Whatever happens I’ll be there, my rose.