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Like thorns on a rose
Alone you are but a gentle flower
flowing in the brees,
Powerless against nature's
deadly tees.
Collors of lust
and desperation,
Defenceless against nature's
eternal temptation.
But together, we are like a rose,
more fearfull then any of our fose.
A thorn, two, and more
that even nature's flesh tore.
The collors of happiness and love,
not lust.
Because like thorns on a rose,
I'm the one you can always trust.
poem
by
Dawid Bartczak
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