by: Albert G. D. Palmares,
2nd Year Medical Student.
A growing rose, beautiful
But bleeds the hand it touches
Thriving in soil it does not belong to
Born with her shades and remains
Sweet to the senses despite this bitterness of the world
Those that pass, are captivated by her beauty
But are completely unaware of her history
The world around her begins to change
Despite the storms the gardener is there
Having the intentions to care for her
He is a being of life, wanting to give the same to another
But however much love, there is no gratitude in words
But by actions as indirect they may be, may be heard
Between the two
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Topic: Natural Affection (Read 717 times)