Beauty through humility and dirt,

a rose shines through the hurt.

A single one or a dozen,

either or or demands some loving.

Fragile yet strong,

short lived yet long.

The life span of it from a seed to full bloom,

the obstacles it overcomes,

before it is presented to you.

The thorns that lie on the flower,

Painfully pricking those who attempt to devour,

Pain protects the beauty,

what a miraculous power.

A rose…so much more than what meets the eye,

What a life it lives before it dies…

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