A Rose With Thorns Poem by malithi aradhya jayawardhane

To pick her is to pain, Yet

magnificent in her simplicity,

Her light blinds my eyes, When

A thorn stabs my finger tip,

Unaware my frame betrayed me

When a blood tear falls on her,

A moment transient, Frozen in time,

A blank canvas alight with color,

As she battled for justice, A place to be,

A right to choose, Too unwilling to part

For, what is A Rose without her Thorns?

There she blooms, In all her glory, Tenacious,

A White-Red rose; A Rose with Thorns

Too flawed to be flawless, Too soiled to be dainty,

Amidst a thousand tender blooms,

Why... She outdo them all!