If It's Aching Or Crushed Poem by James McLain

Yet is a rose a rose;
Accouterments
of 'death' it's aliments and milk.
Absorbed and unabsorbed,
faces lifted and life-giving.
To most it is a kind face,
that waits to smile beneath.
And those one or two others
would pass 'Lily' off as 'Rose.'
If it's aching or it's crushed,
and affably it is.
Cousin in close aroma.
And all whom it's activity touches and
ashamed or not and never thus broken.
For sin is sin and always forgiven,
and 'Lily' is most often blamed.
Thus is why 'Rose' twice is continuously
harassed by a thorn.