Is that I love roses more than any other flower.
I love the way they smell and look,
The colors they come in,
The way they bloom in the sunlight,
The browning edges of the petals I have pressed.
I love the meaning they carry,
A complex emotion hidden in the layered petals.
An emotion I long to obtain.
So forgive me if I cry,
It’s just that the roses mean so much to me,
And I fear I will spend my whole life searching,
For a rose without thorns.
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