You were a beautiful thing

But like a rose your thorns confused you extremely

So you cut them off one by one

Only to discover that without your thorns you lost who you were completly

You let your petals fall off hoping to find out all your secrets

Only to realize that you were no longer a rose draped in red

And if you weren’t a rose then you were nothing

And if you were nothing then it didn’t matter if you were dead

M.A.P

©

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