Thorns of a rose
Cut into my hand
Deep under my skin
There it stays
Even when I let go
The blood and scars remain
It might heal
But the memory will return
It relates to depression
In a number of ways
Hurt and pain
The memory will never fade
It slowly kills us
As the petals begin to fall
Time passes slowly
Suffering more and more
Comments would be great :) Thanks
There is nobody in the whole world than me to agree with the statement in this poem. The rose is a beautiful flower, but the stem has thorns to protect it from invasion. As women, we too have thorns that we thrust into the pysche of others, to get our own way. Then when we find we can't gt our own way an more, a sort of sad deression sets in, and we remember the torns on the stem of the rose. But, however, ... The flower of the rose is so beautiful and the scent is so uplifting, that we forget about the throns, and pick the rose anyway. But then we say ouch when te thorns remind us again of our troubles deep inside of us. A wonderfully written poem, with a very deep message. Thnk you for sharing. A 10+++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a nice write... short and profound..