As I began to blossom, seemingly right before your very eyes;
You were mesmerized by my beauty; such sweet, sultry innocence and no one denies;
My velvety sensuality, Oh how my radiant essense always calms weary souls!
So I was at first handled ever so delicately, as my loveliness began to unfold.
Soon you desired to take me home with you; keep me, care for my all and all-
But your desires only stagnated me; caused my demise and made me fall
too quickly from the grace and beauty that you find so appealing;
My once vibrant colors of life soon vanished due to my silent unwilling . . .
to be seized, exploited, kept and displayed like a prize.
I wanted be free to be me; to sing with the moon, dance with the skies;
And I'm wise enough to realize once my tender splendor begins to decay -
You will no longer desire me; you'll simply toss me aside; cast me away.
So why is it you insisted to keep me from my joys and my natural flow;
From the freedom to sway gently like the leaves; feel the warm winds blow.
Why didn't you allow me to sing in the sunshine, dance in the grass,
Fall asleep with the stars, awaken with the morning dew, less I surpass.
When you removed me from my destiny, I became, so sad, then angry and resistent;
I tried to fight back. I even drew blood from your being, but still you persisted and insisted. . .
To keep me from my natural light; to intrap me as your grand, precious accolade . . .
Only to discard me once my God given beauty begin to drop, wilt, and fade.
I used to blow your mind each time you passed me, with my sweet aromic essense;
You would stroke me so gently, allways plotting to remove me from my presense.
I tried to warn you, often bristling and whistling, "I will not last, I can not grow!"
But in your selfish love, you still cut me off from what sustained my natural glow.
I tried to make you understand, I could love and make you happy; yet remain free-
But you insisted on controlling my existence, your version of showing adoration for me!
Now I'm slooped over in agony, waiting to be returned to whence I was born
I'm am yesterday's dazzling sensation and beauty, I am . . .
Picked Red Roses with Thorns