The Rose That Grew

A small step forward

A little too close

Beautiful rose admired

Not like most

 

I may see

The dark side

But to what degree?

I only hide

 

Between the trees

Within the hole

Behind the debris

I roll

 

Down the broken path

Of hurt and nothingness

Past the bloodbath

Of unattractiveness

 

Too close to fear

Of the unknown

Too close

But I'm alone

 

I cannot hear

The cries for help

But they are near

I cannot yelp

 

A small rose

Lost in a fear

Scared it will decompose

Slowly it disappears

 

Within the broken heart of many

A small seed awaits its time

There are plenty

Slowly it climbs

 

To the rose that grew Within

The broken hearts of many

With broken skin

And thorns we cannot see

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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