Thorns

"Thorns"

The most precious rose stays guarded by thorns.
Grip too tight and your hands will be torn.
For the rose remains on guard.
You can trim it from its bush but it withers hard.
You can grip it and take care of it if you’ve sworn;
To protect and guard it like it’s thorns.
Don’t be alarmed if it cuts like shards.
For the rose remains on guard.
Tread carefully and be gentle;
As the rose grows sentimental.
Tread carefully and full of grace,
or the thorns will rear their truest face.
The flower withers from the cut you drew,
but the thorns remain on guard its true.
Don’t dare pluck a precious petal.
The thorns will not be so gentle.
Lean in close, a slow steady pace;
Or it is in thorns you may be laced.
The rose calls out, “they’re meant to protect me and you,
the thorns they protect tried and true”