To think such beauty could emerge from the dirt

To think she could withstand being tread upon

To endure the mental and physical hurt


No, this is not the treatment she chose

To be treated like a weed 

When she was obviously a rose


To think her a common cocklebur

Could they not see?

This mistreatment she did not incur

The truth, it couldn't be


She knew her beauty, she was divine

Her petals were breathtaking

Her virtues shined


They could stomp if they chose

The hurt was temporary

She knew she was a rose


A rose is unblemished

A rose is unmarked

She had to remember her flawlessness

And not take their foolishness to heart

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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