One rose sticks out from all the rest,
Instead of blood red, flamingo pink, or eggshell white,
This one is black,
Everyone looks over it as if it is nothing,
Then a little girl asks her mother about the flower
The mother guided her daughter away from the rose
But everyone had already noticed the flower
The other roses raise their heads filled with pride.
The black rose was use to this
Every time someone noticed her they cried out
"Is there something wrong with that rose? "
She hung her head in shame
Every time she withered away in winter,
Only to return in spring to endure the torture all over again next year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tell me if you enjoyed this poem and if you have any ideas for poems in the future